The Western
by kts
Summary: Edward is a hit-man with one rule; he doesn't do women. When he learns his next target is Bella, he makes a decision that ends up changing his life - and hers.
1. Chapter 1

I'd been the only rider on the road for miles, a hundred miles at least, maybe two hundred. After a couple of hours of solitude, I'd begun to lose my sense of time and place. I felt completely alone in the world. Peaceful. If there was enough gas in my tank, I could ride like this forever, following the sun to the ocean. No worries, no jobs, no demands on my time. Just me, my bike and the road. The way it ought to be, in a perfect world.

But the world wasn't perfect, far from it. I squinted into the sunset as an outcrop of buildings appeared on the horizon. I recognized the water tower first, its bulbous metal tank perched a dozen yards above the ground, a black silhouette against the pink sunset. Something inside of me sighed. The ride was over. I had tonight to myself but tomorrow was another story. Tomorrow I had a job to do.

The water tower got closer, and the rest of the town began to come into focus. Little more than a small cobbling of low adobe buildings clustered around one main street, Medina looked like a sleepy backwoods hamlet. I stopped at the first light, putting my foot on the ground for the first time in hours. I had no idea how much drug traffic moved through this corner of New Mexico on a daily basis, but I knew it was significant. If it wasn't, I wouldn't be here.

I mulled my options. I could either head forward toward the strip of motels that lay along the highway like a string of abandoned litter or I could turn right and go to Juanita's, about a mile north. Her place was tucked out of sight, her business relying on word of mouth rather than drive-by traffic. I smiled, amused that I was considering altering my routine. After three days on the road, what I wanted most was a meal, a bath, a bed and a woman, in that order. Juanita's it was, as usual. I hit the throttle and turned right.

A couple of minutes later, I downshifted into the long driveway and frowned as I heard a strange sound coming from my bike. That was new. Fuck, the last thing I needed right now was for my bike to act up.

I killed the engine, eased off my helmet and ran my hand through my dirty hair. Maybe I'd take that bath first.

"Eduardo!"

I turned. Juanita had heard me ride up. She was standing at the front door, her expression even more welcoming than usual.

"Hola, Juanita. Que pasa?" My Spanish was shit, but I liked to use what little I had.

"Nada, Eduardo. Nada." Juanita smiled at me indulgently. She liked me, or at least she liked my business. "It's good to see you, mi amigo."

"You, too." I stretched a little and began moving toward the door. Juanita looked me over. "You need a bath."

"Si."

"And then?"

"The usual."

"Bueno. Come in." Juanita was a businesswoman first, an amiga second. She didn't ask me what brought me to town. She never did.

"You want to eat first?"

"No. I want a bath. And a drink."

"Si. Of course." The 'lobby' of Juanita's establishment was more of a living room. She gestured for me to sit on one of the several easy chairs grouped around a coffee table, but I was still getting my land legs back after the ride and shook my head. She nodded, then went to the curtained door that separated the living room from the rest of the building. I heard her say something rapidly in Spanish, and then she turned back to me with a smile.

"You can have the same room as last time. Business is slow this week." She poured me a drink from the small bar near the window. "Whiskey, si?"

"Si." I took the glass and downed it in one swallow. Juanita bought cheap liquor, but I didn't care. It washed down the dust. "Gracias."

"Your bath will be ready in a minute. Then I'll bring you dinner. Chile rellenos sound good?"

"Yours are the best, Juanita." It was true. In another world, Juanita would have been a running a five star restaurant, not a two star cathouse. I watched her attempt to suppress a smile. She knew it too.

She looked at the bottle of whiskey for a moment, then handed it to me. "On the house, for you, Eduardo."

"Gracias," I said in surprise. Juanita wasn't one to nickle and dime her customers, but she'd never thrown in a freebie before. Maybe she did like me.

"Don't get too excited, mi amigo. I've had to raise my prices a little, and I have a favor to ask you."

I smirked and lifted the bottle. Nothing was ever free. But I was curious what favor I could do for her, and wasn't automatically opposed to helping her out.

"I have a new girl for you, a gringa. Very pretty, you'll like her."

"What's the favor?"

"Be nice to her. You're always nice to my girls, but be extra nice with this one, si?" She looked at me for agreement and I nodded. "Her last customer was not so nice, and I don't want to lose her."

"Nice it is, Juanita." I poured myself another whiskey and tossed it back, this time not noticing the taste, just savoring the warmth as it hit my stomach, feeling my muscles begin to relax. I wanted to wash up, eat dinner and get this gringa into my bed where I would be nice, very nice indeed. "My bath ready?"

"Should be." She smiled and gestured with her head toward the doorway. "You know the way."

Half an hour later, I was scrubbed clean and eating my dinner in my room when I heard a soft knock.

"Come in." The door opened just enough for a slight figure to slip in. The girl closed the door behind her and stood there, her hands still on the knob behind her back. I didn't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this. She was a thin little thing, wearing a nightgown that was too big for her, one that hid any curves she might or might not have. Childlike waifs weren't my type, Juanita knew that, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe this girl had some tricks up her loose sleeves.

"Are you hungry?" I gestured toward what remained of my dinner. She made a dismissive gesture with her eyes and shook her head.

"Thirsty?" I watched her eye the whiskey, then look briefly at my face. She was pretty, Juanita was right. Even with her long dark hair deliberately slung over half her face, I could make out a clear, pale complexion and deep brown eyes. I watched her scowl change to something more speculative as she looked back at the bottle. "Go ahead. Have some."

She let go of the doorknob and took a couple of steps toward me. Most girls were only too happy to be offered a drink, but this one acted like I was setting a trap. Her steps were hesitant, her eyes glued to my face as though she feared I might lunge for her at any second. I kept still, instinctively not wanting to scare her, and watched as she poured a finger of whiskey into the empty glass next to mine. She put the bottle slowly back down onto the table and reached for her glass, lifting it towards herself. Then, with a movement so fast I didn't have time to react, she threw the whiskey in my face.

"Bastard," she hissed at me, slamming her glass down on the table.

I sat there for a second, stunned and confused, but my reflexes kicked in, and before I knew what I was doing, I had her pushed back against the wall, my forearm under her neck just tight enough to hold her there. Instead of fighting back, she lifted her chin defiantly as if daring me to hurt her.

"What the fuck did you do that for?"

"You deserved it."

"I didn't do anything."

"Not yet."

If eyes were weapons, she was firing cannons. This one had a lot of spirit, I'd give her that; but despite the fact that she probably didn't weigh more than a hundred pounds even without the huge nightgown, I'd never had to fight a girl to get her into my bed, and I wasn't starting tonight. I loosened my hold, about to tell her to leave and have Juanita send in someone else when she surprised me again and brought her knee up sharp and fast.

"Goddamn it!" I let her go and backed away, bent over in pain. "What the fuck is your problem?"

"Asshole." She took a step forward and hit me on the side of my head with her fist, hard. "Motherfucking asshole." She hit the other side of my head. "Motherfucking fucking –"

I grabbed her wrists and easily pulled them behind her, yanking her against me to ward off her blows. She kicked futilely at my shins but didn't have room to try her knee attack again. I transferred both of her wrists to my left hand and brought my right up to her head, pushing her hair back, trying to get a better look at her. She flung her head from side to side, not allowing me to see her face, while she pulled with all her strength to free her arms.

I suppose some men would have gotten excited to have a little hellcat like this squirming up against them, and that might even have been me a lifetime ago, but instead, she was making me tired. I just wanted my usual – a hot bath, a delicious meal, a quick easy fuck and a good night's sleep. I had to be sharp tomorrow and didn't have the time or energy for this shit.

The girl's struggles were weakening. She had fight but not endurance. I gathered up some of the loose fabric of her nightgown and used it to wipe the whiskey off my face. Glancing up at her as I finished, I was surprised to see she was fighting back tears. _Jesus Christ_. Suddenly I just wanted to go to bed – alone. Tonight was jinxed, first my bike's engine and now this girl who'd rather fight than fuck. I needed to cut my losses and get some sleep.

I let her go with enough of a push to prevent her from hitting me again. "Leave, then. I don't know what your problem is, but you can take it to some other lucky guy."

"What?" She let her guard down entirely and looked at me in shock.

"Leave."

"Leave?"

"Am I not being clear? Although I've enjoyed the pleasure of your company, your manners and wit, I am excusing you. Go."

"Go?"

"Please."

She looked at me with a deep, confused frown, for the first time seemingly aware of her attire, pulling her nightgown around herself and crossing her arms protectively.

"You really expect me to believe you're not from Mala?" She eyed me suspiciously.

This was beginning to remind me of a recurrent childhood nightmare where I was in a school play but didn't know my lines and didn't know what anyone else was talking about either.

"Mala? I don't even know where that is."

"Who."

I rubbed my face and turned back toward the table. I could finish my dinner, have another drink and be asleep in twenty minutes if this violent myna bird would just leave me alone. "Who," I said, making it sound like an owl. "Hoo, hoo."

"Mala's not a place, he's a person. No, he's an animal. He's a motherfucking ass –"

"Hole. Got it. Person, not place. Animal, not vegetable. Unfortunately, I'm not in the mood for charades. Goodnight." I sat down and dug into Juanita's chiles with my fork. They'd gotten cold but were still delicious. Damn, that woman could cook.

The girl stood still, watching me eat. "Mala really didn't send you?"

I stifled a groan and looked up at her. "For the last time, no. I don't even know who he is." Her eyes had narrowed and were darting around the room, skittering nervously over the bed. Why this was so hard for her process, I had no idea, but I could literally see the wheels in her mind turning. I dug back into my dinner, willing her silently to leave. Instead, she sat down across from me.

I shook my head in disbelief. "Why aren't you leaving? I told you to go."

She looked at me for a long minute before answering, chewing on her bottom lip. "If you're not from Mala ..." She watched me eat. "Can I stay in here tonight? With you?"

I put my fork down and poured myself some more whiskey. Was this the favor Juanita'd hoped to bribe out of me?

"You don't want to be here," I said it as a statement, meaning Juanita's house, not my room.

She shook her head just once in agreement. "I don't want to be here."

"Then why are you?"

She turned her eyes down to the table, one hand coming up to wipe nervously at invisible crumbs. I could tell that she didn't want to say anything further, so I sighed and let her off the hook. Juanita was going to owe me big for this.

"I give up. Do whatever you want. You want to stay, stay." I went back to my meal, finishing it in a couple of bites. When I was done, I stood and started getting ready to go to sleep. I tossed my shirt on the dresser and sat on the bed to pull off my boots. She watched me warily, looking ready for another fight.

"Jesus, girl, I'm not going to do anything but sleep. Hopefully." I started undoing my belt, wondering if I'd be safe with her in the room, not the other way around. "What's your name, anyway?"

She snorted, all of her defenses back up. "My name? Nina, cara, pajarita." She paused and then spat out, "Puta."

"I'm Edward." I tossed my jeans onto the dresser with my shirt. I didn't care if she saw me in my underwear, but I had a feeling she wasn't looking. I pulled down the bedspread and got comfortable, the fatigue of the day's ride already washing over me. "If you're determined to stay, will you at least promise to be quiet?"

"Okay."

"Okay."

Okay. I closed my eyes and was asleep within minutes.

**A/N: Hi everyone. Here's the first chapter of my sophomore effort; this story is in EPOV, and is much more plot-driven, which is my lame but true excuse for why it's taken me so long to write it.**

**Snarkymuch is beta'ing this for me (VixenLittleStella is pre-reading) and they are both already proving invaluable. Thank you, Sparkly Red Pen (and arfalcon for recommending them)! Any mistakes that remain are solely on me.**

**My Spanish is worse than Edward's, so don't worry - there won't be very much, but snarkymuch suggested I offer translations, and I thought that was a good idea.**

**Hola = hello**

**Que pasa = what's up?**

**Nada = nothing**

**Buena = good**

**Amigo/amiga = friend**

**Pajarita = little bird**

**Puta = whore**

**Lastly, I don't think I ever put a disclaimer in A Slow Boil, so just for the record, no copyright infringement is intended; the characters are Stephenie Meyer's, but the plot is mine.**

**Hope you enjoy it - kts**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Shit, shit, shit," I muttered under my breath, kicking at the dust under my boot in frustration. My bike's engine was still squeaking, and I couldn't figure out why. I'd gotten pretty good over the years at tending to my bike myself, but this problem went beyond my rudimentary mechanical knowledge. Now I had to decide whether to look for a bike shop in town and risk tying up some of my time today, or let it go on the chance that the bike would run fine, but just sound funny. I stared at the engine again, trying to make up my mind, hoping it would magically fix itself if I stared hard enough.

It didn't help that I was exhausted. The girl had been quiet as a mouse, like she'd agreed, but I couldn't sleep with her in the room. She was still sitting at the table the first time I awoke. I told her she was making me nervous and asked if she would please lay down. She made me promise not to touch her, then curled up as far away from me as possible, on top of the blankets.

I went back to sleep for what would be the longest stretch of the night, about four hours. At two she began muttering in her sleep, something about her mother. At three she started shivering and I got up and pulled an extra blanket out of the closet, careful not to touch her as I spread it over her tiny frame. At four thirty I felt her roll onto her back, her arm extending toward me enough for her hand to rest on my bicep. At six I felt something on my face. I opened my eyes, and in the faintly brighter light of morning, I realized the girl had gotten close enough to me that her hair was tickling my jaw. I looked down and was struck by how young she looked asleep, how pretty she was when she wasn't frowning. Her lips were parted, and I watched her chest rise and fall slowly with each breath. I must have drifted off again as the next time I awoke it was seven, and I was alone. I got up, dressed, and headed to the kitchen, where I helped myself to some coffee. Juanita served breakfast at nine, so that gave me a couple of hours to tinker with my bike.

I sighed, unable to shake the feeling that it wasn't just last night that had been jinxed, but this whole damn job. I'd gotten the call four days ago. A blocked number on my caller ID was the first giveaway, followed by the familiar lightly accented voice of the man whose name I didn't know, the one who'd told me to call him Señor the first time he phoned about six years ago. He said he had another job for me, but this one was a little different. He didn't want to tell me anything on the phone but would meet with me when I got to town and give me the details then.

I hadn't met Señor in person and wasn't sure I wanted to. I liked the anonymity of the phone calls and the brevity. Señor usually took less than five minutes to tell me what I needed to know, his instructions precise and accurate. I was equally as precise and accurate, never having once bungled a job. I didn't intend to start today.

I gave up on my bike and headed back to the house, hoping another cup of coffee would help clear my head. Juanita was in the kitchen, scrambling some eggs over her old electric stove. "Buenos dias, Eduardo."

"Buenos dias," I answered, refilling my cup.

"You had a good night? You liked the gringa?"

I didnt know why, but I decided to cover for the girl. "Si."

"You were nice to her?"

I smiled into my cup. "Si, Juanita." She'd basically assaulted me, but I'd let her stay anyway. That was definitely nice of me.

"Bueno. I knew I could count on you. Bella's a special girl."

"Bella?"

"Si, the gringa. You didn't ask her name?"

"I did. She didn't tell me."

"Ah." Juanita shook her head and stirred the eggs, adding some diced onions and peppers. Breakfast was beginning to smell delicious.

"She doesn't seem to want to be here."

Juanita stopped stirring, but kept her eyes on the eggs. "She doesn't. I'm watching her for someone."

It'd been about four years since I'd been coming here, the place recommended to me by a clerk at a gas station the next town over. I'd always assumed the girls were here voluntarily, maybe not overjoyed, but making the best of their circumstances. From what I'd seen, Juanita treated her girls like family, but I realized now I had no idea how her business worked; and maybe it was best if I kept it that way.

"I don't like keeping her here like this, but I don't have a choice."

"You said last night you didn't want to lose her, like she could leave if she wanted to."

Juanita shrugged and started stirring again. She looked at me over her shoulder with a sad smile. "There are lots of ways to lose someone. She could try to run away. Or hurt herself."

"Who's this Mala?"

She froze over the eggs again, then shook her head. "You don't want to know. Por favor, Eduardo," she added quietly, asking me to drop it. I did.

"So, you're my only customer here this morning. You want me to bring your breakfast to your room, or do you want to eat in here with us?" She started pulling plates out of a cabinet.

"I'll eat here if that's all right."

"Si, of course. Sit down."

I got comfortable at the big table in the corner and watched as Juanita finished breakfast. Girls began trickling into the kitchen and they joined me at the table, giving me little smiles and quiet good-mornings. I wasn't sure why, but I suddenly found myself as eager to see Bella again as I was to get breakfast; yet by the time Juanita brought our dishes to the table, she still hadn't shown. As we ate, the girls began talking to each other in such rapid Spanish that I couldn't even begin to follow, although I caught Bella's name once. It elicited a round of giggles and more than one stolen glance in my direction. Juanita said something that quieted the girls down, and we ate in silence after that.

I was just mopping up the last of my eggs with a piece of toast when someone slid silently into the empty chair next to me. I glanced up and recognized Bella's long hair, pulled forward over her face again, with only the tip of her nose visible from my angle. Juanita got up and fixed her a plate, bringing her enough to feed a lumberjack. She was obviously encouraging Bella to eat, as I watched her move her fork through the eggs. I didn't say anything, although the other girls were watching us both curiously. I could feel six pairs of eyes darting back and forth between me and Bella, but what they were looking for, I didn't know. Bella seemed to be ignoring me, so I ignored her back.

When I finished a minute later, I pushed my plate aside. "Juanita, is there a bike shop in town, or anyone who knows how to fix a bike?"

"A bike shop?" She looked puzzled. "You want a bicycle?"

"No," I couldn't help but smile. "My motorcycle, I call it a bike. I need someone to look at the engine."

"Oh." She laughed a little. "Motorcycle. I thought you meant bicycle. Eduardo on a bicycle, imagine that."

Did I imagine it, or did Bella let out a quiet snicker?

"No, I'm sorry. I can't think of anyone. Girls?"

The young women were clearing their plates and rising, all shaking their heads and shrugging their apologies. That settled my dilemma. I'd just have to hope my bike would make it through the day and far enough toward home tonight to find a repair shop on the road.

"Okay, thanks anyway. I'm going to pack up and get going." I rose to leave, taking my plate over to the sink like the girls had done and adding it to the stack. "Thanks for breakfast, Juanita. It was delicious as always. I'll meet you in your office in fifteen minutes."

"Gracias, Eduardo. Fifteen minutes."

Packing up took less than two minutes since I hadn't unpacked anything to begin with, but I wanted extra time to make sure my gun was clean and ready to go. It was. I pulled my shoulder holster out of my bag, strapping it on over my t-shirt. I checked the safety one last time and eased the gun into the pocket of the holster, then scanned the room to make sure I had everything. I was just slipping on my jacket when the door opened.

Bella came in and stood the same way she had last night, holding the knob behind her. She took in the holster and her eyes widened, but she didn't say anything, just watched me grab my bag and zip it up. I patted my pockets to make sure I had my phone and wallet and turned toward the door, ready to go. Bella didn't move to let me pass, and I made a gesture with my hands, asking her what she wanted. She lifted her head back, flicking her hair off her face, and looked me straight in the eye. Damn, she was pretty, maybe even beautiful. Too bad she wasn't here willingly. I would really have enjoyed last night.

"I know a little about motorcycles."

I don't think anything she could have said would have surprised me more. "You do?"

"Yeah. I could take a look at yours if you want."

"Sure," I agreed without thinking, still dumbfounded.

"Okay."

"Okay."

She stepped aside and then followed me out of the room, waiting in the living room while I settled my bill. I paid for the full service, letting Juanita assume Bella had slept with me, which technically I suppose she had.

Bella followed me out the front door and around the corner of the building where I'd left my bike.

"A Ducati. Nice."

I watched her walk around the bike, running her hand over the seat. She was wearing jeans this morning and a large t-shirt. Plastic flip-flops on her feet made a quiet clicking sound as she rounded the bike.

"Do you know anything about Ducatis?"

"No."

Great. Maybe this was mistake. She might be able to recognize the make, but I was already second-guessing my decision to let her look at it, let alone fiddle with it. Just because I didn't know how to fix it, didn't mean I'd let some other amateur get their hands on it.

"But I know Vespas. Maybe the Italian bikes are similar enough. What's wrong with it?"

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. Not only did she know bikes, she knew Italian ones. "It's making a squeaking sound."

"Did you check the belts?"

"This morning. They seem fine."

"How long has it been squeaking?"

"I don't know. I didn't notice it until last night when I pulled up here."

She looked down the long driveway. "Take it to the road and back. Let me hear what it sounds like."

I did as she said. The squeak remained although it was a lot harder to hear once I was out of first gear.

"So it's just when you're in gear, then," she mused as I returned to the house.

"I guess. Is that bad?"

"It's not good. Turn it off." I dropped the kickstand and turned off the engine. Bella gestured for me to dismount, and then she squatted down and went to work. Her nimble fingers ran over the exhaust system, then the fuel line. It looked like she was checking for loose connections, but I couldn't quite tell. I watched her double-check the belts and even the brake line.

"I don't think it's the engine, so that's good at least." Her fingers dropped to the chain. "Ah. When was the last time you cleaned your chain?"

"A couple of months ago."

"It's gotten filthy since then, and it's way too tight. Do you have a wrench kit?"

I fished my repair kit out of the pannier and handed it to her. She worked off the sprocket cover and reached for the exposed chain, tugging at it lightly. "Look at this."

I knelt down next to her and looked where she was pointing. The chain was coated in red dust and was so tight even I couldn't find any slack in it. "This is about ready to break. The squeak was probably it rubbing against the gearshaft. You've got to clean and loosen it before you go anywhere. There must be a leak in the lube system, but if you keep it clean you should be okay until you find a repair shop."

I was impressed. Very impressed. I turned to tell her so, but as soon as I shifted, she simultaneously made a motion that draped her hair back over her face, so I let it go.

A couple of minutes later, we had the rear wheel propped up and Bella spun it slowly while I sprayed the chain with WD-40 and wiped it clean. I loosened it a little with the lug wrench and put the sprocket cover back on, then lowered the bike back to the ground and started collecting my tools. "Thank you."

"People forget about the chains, but if you let them get that dirty and tight, you could be in a world of hurt if it snaps when you're going at top speed." She gave me a small smile as though that was funny.

"Where'd you learn about bikes?"

Her smile vanished. "I helped a friend rebuild a couple of old bikes a few years ago."

"Oh. Well, thanks again. I mean it." I put the repair kit back in the pannier and pulled on my helmet.

"You're welcome. Just remember to check the chain every time you stop for gas."

"Will do."

She looked down at the ground while I slung a leg over my bike. I had a feeling she wanted to say something else, so I waited to start the ignition.

"Where are you going from here?" She glanced up at me with something new in her eyes, something less guarded, more hopeful.

"Dos Piños."

Her eyes narrowed, and the crease returned between her eyebrows. "Are you coming back?"

"Some day."

Her expression went completely blank, and she gave me a stiff nod. "Okay. Goodbye, then."

"Goodbye, Bella."

Her chocolate eyes darted up to mine again as I used her name for the first and last time. I started the bike, thinking that I'd never see her again and wondering why that bothered me so much. She backed up to the side of the house as I did a few circles in the courtyard. The squeak was gone, but I did a few more circles just to make sure. This was fucking ridiculous – I was lingering and I knew it.

I pulled my head together and turned down the driveway. I couldn't help myself, though, and took one last look over my shoulder. Bella was still standing near the house, her arms crossed in front of her. The wind lifted her hair off her face for a second, and I caught her expression. She looked like she was watching her last hope die.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Edward." I picked up my phone on the second ring, knowing who it was by the 'blocked' readout.

"You made it to town?"

"I'm here."

"Good. Very good. Where exactly are you?"

"The restaurant." There was only one in town. Its proper name was The Dos Pinos Grill, but everyone called it the restaurant.

"Have you eaten?"

"No, just coffee."

"I'll join you in a minute. We can discuss our business over lunch."

"See you soon, then." I wondered where he was calling from.

"Yes." He hung up and I closed my phone, putting it back in my breast pocket and returning to my coffee, the waitress topping it off for the fourth time since I'd arrived an hour ago.

Ten minutes later, I heard the door open behind me, and I turned to watch as a man entered and headed straight for me. He was a few inches shorter than me and several pounds heavier, carrying the extra weight on his belly. His fleshy nose and the dark circles under his eyes were either the result of a bad drinking habit or unfortunate genetics. A flash of gold caught my eye, and I noticed he was wearing a large watch and several rings.

"Edward?" He sat next to me.

"Yes."

He turned on his stool, looking at me carefully. I kept my gaze level with his, both of us making quick assessments. We couldn't have looked more different. He was in business clothes - me in jeans and a leather jacket - but despite my first impression that he was more vanity than substance, there was something hard about his eyes while he looked me over, something that told me he wasn't to be taken lightly.

Suddenly he wrapped his knuckles on the table. "Let's go."

"I thought we were getting lunch."

"We are, but not here. Too public. Come on."

I got up and followed him back into the bright outdoors. He walked up to the driver's side of a late model black Escalade with tinted windows and opened the door. I could make out at least two other men in the back seat.

"I'd offer you a lift, but perhaps you'd rather follow us? It's not far."

"I'll be right behind you."

I followed the Escalade down the sleepy main street and onto a dirt road that quickly began winding up into the hills outside Dos Pinos. The scenery up here was postcard-perfect and the air noticeably fresher than down in the valley, but I stayed focused on memorizing the route so I could find my way back. My bike took the hills just fine, not making a single squeak.

After about five miles, we pulled up outside of a gated hacienda. The Escalade stopped and Señor, if that's who he was, reached out and pushed some buttons on a post. The gate swung open, and I followed the car inside to a courtyard. I watched the gate close behind us as I parked my bike and took off my helmet. I kept my head still as I swept my eyes around the cement walls that now enclosed us, then removed my sunglasses. The gate was the only way out.

"Edward, I'm sorry if I've been rude." The man had exited his car and was approaching me, this time with a smile on his face. "I've forgotten my manners. It's nice to finally meet you after all these years." He extended his hand and I shook it, firmly. "Welcome to my home." He lifted both of his arms toward the house with a proud gesture.

"It's very nice."

"Yes, it is." He looked at it with obvious pleasure. Then he seemed to catch himself basking in his good fortune and gave me a slightly embarrassed smile, putting a hand on my shoulder and steering me toward the front door. "I mean, thank you, thank you. Now, let's have lunch."

The inside of the house was dark and cool. Señor offered to take my jacket, but I said I'd keep it on. He nodded and steered me down a central hallway. The only noise I could hear were our boots on the tiled floor. The adobe walls that flanked us had carved niches full of pottery, baskets, and weavings, each with its own spotlight. Someone had dropped a lot of money on native artifacts and was very happy to show them off.

I heard footsteps behind us and glanced over my shoulder. The two men who'd been in the back of the Escalade were following us, their eyes on me. I turned forward, instinctively thankful I'd kept my jacket on, knowing it hid my holster. Señor led us into an open courtyard in which a table had been set for lunch, and the two men took positions at opposite sides. They stood with their arms crossed while Señor gestured for me to sit down. The one closest to me looked like he'd recently been in a fight, with a black eye that was just beginning to fade.

"My bodyguards. They never leave my sight, but you can ignore them. I forget they're there most of the time myself." _Then you've either been lucky or you're smarter than you look_, I thought as Señor offered to pour me a glass of water from a carafe. I nodded my acceptance, pressing my gun to me reassuringly with my left arm as I reached for the water with my right.

"Our meal will be served in just a minute or two. While we wait, tell me about your trip."

"My trip?"

"Yes, my friend. Did you have a nice ride?"

I tipped my head a fraction of an inch. We were apparently going to make small talk, and he apparently thought I was his friend. I didn't mind when Juanita called me 'amigo' because we'd known each other for years, but coming from Señor – it rubbed me the wrong way. We weren't friends. "It was fine."

"Let me see. I called you Tuesday, and today is Friday. So it took you four days to get here, yes?"

"Three, actually. I arrived last night."

"Three days, just you on the road on your motorcycle." He stretched back and smiled at me. "That sounds so relaxing, like a vacation."

"It was. But I'm here now."

"And eager to get to business, I see. That's good. But let me ask you a question. If I wanted you here sooner than three days, could you do it?"

I thought about my options, about public transportation. "Not without leaving a paper trail. Which I don't want to do."

"No, I suppose not." He paused while an older woman brought in two salads and set them in front of us. "Tell me, would you consider moving closer?"

_Moving closer_? "How much closer?"

"If I needed you in a day. Say, Las Cruces or El Paso."

"I like my home."

"Of course you do. But is it as nice as this?" He gestured around the courtyard.

"No."

"I could set you up in something much nicer than you're used to."

"Like I said, I like my home."

"You live in Chicago, correct?"

I'd never told him that, but I wasn't surprised he knew and merely nodded.

"A wonderful city. So much culture. Such music."

So Señor also knew about my day job. I didn't answer, and he continued. "But those winters, so cold and long. The weather is much nicer down here, my friend."

"I know. I've been here in the winter. But I like the snow."

Señor's face grew serious as he took a bite of his salad. He washed it down with a sip of water and sat back a bit in his chair. "Let me tell you why I called you."

"I'd appreciate that."

He chuckled. "No, one more question. How much do you know about me?"

"Very little. You call, I come. I do the job, leave, and when I get home, my bank account's a lot bigger. That's good enough for me."

He nodded. "Yes, that's been good enough for me for a long time as well. But times have changed, Edward, and we must change as well." He smiled at me condescendingly. "We won the war, you see."

"The war?"

"The drug war. My cartel won. And in doing so, we've become the de facto government in northern Mexico and a good part of the southwestern US.

"Really." I tried to keep the surprise out of my voice.

"Yes."

"Does the US government know about this?" _Why didn't I know about this?_

"Of course they do. But they won't admit it, because that would be admitting they lost, and Americans never do that, do they?"

"No."

"But you see, this is where it gets interesting. My bosses have decided that they like this government business better than running drugs. It's much less dangerous and far more lucrative."

"More lucrative? I find that hard to believe."

"I did too, at first, but let me tell you something. Our American government does a piss poor job of keeping track of all of its money. Millions of dollars go missing every year and no one in Washington – especially the Pentagon, it seems – knows how to explain it. And if some of that missing money finds its way down here to us, well?" He shrugged.

The last time I paid any attention to the news was back when we were hemorrhaging money during the Iraq war, so I figured he was probably right. One thing he'd said stood out, however.

"Our government?"

"I was born and raised in Phoenix. I'm as American as you, can't you tell?"

"Now that you mention it, yes, your English is very good."

He laughed, obviously flattered. "It should be."

We finished our salads, and the old woman appeared instantly to clear our plates. A moment later, she was back with a chicken dish. Señor dug in hungrily while I toyed with the garnishes. He still hadn't told me why I was here.

"Edward," he finally said, washing down a bite with a big drink of water. "Let me get to the point. My bosses have decided that the days of violence are behind us. They plan to turn the cartel into a legitimate political force."

"Just like that."

"Just like that, yes. Americans' memories are as short as their attention spans. In a few years, we'll all be dignitaries, invited to White House dinners." He gave me an odd smile. I couldn't tell if he was being delusional or sarcastic, but I sure as hell saw the irony and raised an eyebrow.

"Our enemies have become our friends. Imagine that, imagine how that changes everything." He stared into space, his expression almost euphoric before it darkened again. "Unfortunately, some of our friends have become enemies in the process." He looked at me, his smile returning. "Yes, we still have enemies, but we won't be handling them ourselves any longer. That's where people like you come in. I've always been able to trust you with jobs that I didn't want to touch, and those jobs will just be increasing in the years to come. We're both on to bigger and better things, Edward, with bigger and better payouts. That's why I asked if you could move down here, so that I use you more quickly and perhaps more frequently."

"I see." I knew the arrangement I had with Señor wouldn't last forever, but I hadn't expected it to come to this. What was he thinking, that I'd become his own personal assassin?

He didn't seem to notice how noncommittal I was remaining. "Now, as part of our cartel's transformation, my colleagues and I are under instructions to clean up loose ends, as it were."

"Loose ends?"

"Yes - any unfinished business that could look bad in the near future. Problems we don't want to touch ourselves. I have only one such problem, and that's why I called you. But there's a catch: it's a woman."

No. No, no, no. I didn't do women or children, and Señor knew that. It was the first condition I'd ever given him, and he'd never asked for an exception. Now I understood why he'd had me come down here before giving me the details; I wouldn't have come otherwise.

"You know my rule. No women."

"Of course I know your rule, Edward. I have nothing but the highest respect for your rule and for you for having it. But rules are meant to be broken, are they not?"

"Not mine."

"Edward, be reasonable. Men, women, no one's innocent down here. What difference does it make what a person has between their legs if they've crossed the cartel, if they've become inconvenient? What matters is the future. Ten years from now, I could be the Governor of Arizona and you could be retired on a private island somewhere." He tapped his forehead. "Just think about the future, my friend. That's what you have to focus on."

"I'd rather think about my conscience."

"Your conscience?" He laughed, genuinely amused. "How many jobs have you done for me, now? Eleven? Twelve? What does your conscience tell you about them?"

"Nothing."

"Exactly. Because those hits were nothing, and so is this one. She's nothing, a nobody. No one will miss her. You'll do the job, go home, and sleep like a baby. Trust me."

"And if I refuse?"

A fat fly had been buzzing lazily around the table for the last five minutes. In a sudden blur of movement, Señor whipped his napkin off his lap and swatted it dead.

"Then I'm afraid you become a loose end yourself, Edward."

The fly had ended up on its back, its legs twitching for a few seconds before it stilled. "So, that's how it is."

"That's how it is, my friend. From now on, I have to know who I can trust." He flicked the dead fly off the table.

"I've never given you a reason not to trust me."

"No, you haven't. You've been highly, highly dependable." Señor took a deep breath in through his nose and let it out with a whoosh. "But we are pulling our teams together, tightening up our front lines. No more freelancers. Either you go on the payroll or you become expendable. A loose end."

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. How the fuck was I going to get out of this? No way could I kill a woman, I just couldn't do it. But I also knew there was no way I could just get on my bike and ride away. Señor had let me know that he knew where I lived. Hell, he probably already had men in Chicago waiting for me to return home with my conscience clean but my days numbered. He was watching me now, his eyes unblinking, while I tried and failed to think of a way to stall – a way out. But just as I'd noticed in the courtyard, the only exit was the one he controlled. There was nothing I could do but pretend I was going along while I figured out an escape.

"Tell me about the job."

"Good man. I knew I could count on you." We'd finished our entrees, and the servant woman cleared our plates, bringing us ice cream for dessert. "Would you like a coffee, Edward?"

Would I like a coffee to go with my instructions on how to kill a defenseless woman? No, what I'd like is to punch you in the face, give you two real black eyes and an even bigger nose. "No, thank you."

"Mmm, nothing beats an ice cream on a hot day, am I right?"

"A cold beer, maybe."

He laughed. "You have a sense of humor, Edward. I didn't know that about you. You and I could be friends, I think, good friends."

He didn't seem to want to talk business as we finished eating, instead chattering on about the expenses of keeping up the hacienda and a little about his family. His wife liked to gamble in Las Vegas, and his daughters' educations were costing him an arm and a leg. If he was trying to lay some kind of foundation for a friendship, he was failing miserably, but I played along, still trying to work out an escape route.

Finally our meal was complete and Señor rose. We began walking back through the house, his bodyguards moving again for the first time since we sat down. Señor snapped his fingers at them and gestured for them to wait in the courtyard, treating them like well-trained dogs. I would never be on this guy's payroll. Never.

When we got to the front of the house, Señor walked me to my bike, then turned to face me, his friendly demeanor gone. When he spoke, it was with the same clipped precision that he used on the phone.

"Here's what you need to know. She's a prostitute, a nobody, like I said." He reached into his shirt pocket and handed me a photograph. Oh, fuck no. This couldn't be happening, I thought as I looked into the same brown eyes I'd torn myself away from this morning. "She works at the brothel in Medina, do you know it?"

"Yes."

"Good. I want the job done tonight, and most importantly, I don't want a body. Got that?"

"No body."

"Nothing that can be identified, anyway. And there's another catch - this time I need proof."

"Proof? What are you talking about?"

"I need proof that she's dead."

"So you don't trust me."

"Edward," he sighed, "it's not that I don't trust you. It's like I said, things are changing. The rules are changing, even as I speak. The rules for me, the rules for you. From now on, I need proof."

"What kind of proof?"

"A picture, a body part, something conclusive. I'll let you decide. Bring it to me tomorrow."

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. "You have got to be shitting me. First you want me to do a woman and then stick around a whole extra day to bring you some kind of proof? You know I don't operate that way."

"I know you didn't operate that way. You do now. Unless you prefer to become a loose end." His voice dropped as he said the last sentence, his eyes looking at me blankly. It was more than a little unnerving, the way he could turn his emotions on and off.

I sighed. "Fuck. Fine, I'll bring you something tomorrow."

He clapped my shoulder. "That's the spirit, Edward. You see, we all have to adapt to change, whether we want to or not. After all, I'm not asking so much, am I? An extra day, what's that? You'll be paid accordingly, so what's the harm?"

"Okay. I said I'd do it."

"Good man." He clapped my shoulder again and winked, his friendly persona returning. "Just keep thinking about your private island. Now, she sees customers that I send her, so I'll call and tell them to expect you. That'll be your in."

I ran my thumb along the edge of Bella's picture. She was scowling at the camera, clearly not happy at being photographed. I shoved it into my front pocket and put on my helmet.

"You know, you've never told me your name." I got on my bike.

"Ah, forgive me, my manners are so rusty." Señor walked over to the gate and hit the buttons to open it. "My name is Ricardo Jimenez. My friends call me Rico."

"And what do your enemies call you?"

He smiled. "Mala."

I started my bike and passed through the gate, not looking back.

**A/N: So, I got the idea for this story from a photograph of Clint Eastwood holding a baby armadillo - the one I'm using as my avatar - because he's somehow both tough and gentle at the same time. I was writing another story over the summer, but when I saw the photo, this "Western" story just came alive like I was watching a movie. **

**I am open to criticism, so please feel free to comment on anything - except my use of commas, because without the careful work of snarkymuch, it would have been horribly, embarrassingly, punctuated.**

**Thanks to all who are reading! - kts**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I rode back down through the hills in a daze, going over the basics―again and again―trying to absorb them, trying to make them fit a pattern that would give me an easy out. I wasn't going to do it. I knew that. I had no desire to break my most basic rule, especially not if the target was Bella.

Shit, I'd never met a target before the job, certainly never spent the night in the same room with one, definitely never had one fix my bike. If she hadn't been female, it might, _might_, have been a different story, but she was, so that was the end of it. 

And I had no desire to join Mala's payroll, to become his personal assassin. That wasn't me. This was a part-time job, a freelance thing I did to help make ends meet. I had no desire to go pro. In fact, it was high time I got out of the business altogether. But it was too late to just walk away, I realized with a sinking feeling in my gut. The more I thought about it, the more it became clear that there was only one possible course of action. 

Before I knew it, I was back in Medina and on the road up to Juanita's. 

"Juanita!" I turned off my bike and took the stairs to the front door in one jump. "Juanita!" 

"Eduardo! What are you doing?" Juanita pushed through the curtain into the lobby. 

"Where's Bella?" 

"Bella?" 

"Bella! Where's Bella?" 

"In her room." 

"Where?" I pushed through the curtain and turned right. I knew the customers' rooms were on the left and assumed the girls' were on the right, but I'd never been in this wing of the house and had no idea how to find a specific room. 

"At the end, the one of the left." Juanita pointed down the hallway, her expression worried. "What's wrong, Eduardo?" 

I didn't answer her, just headed down the hall. When I got to the last door on the left, I tried the knob, but it was locked. "Bella"―I pounded on the door―"it's me, Edward. Let me in." 

"Edward?" I heard her surprised voice on the other side of the door. I heard the lock flick and she peeked out at me. "You said you weren't coming back." 

"I wasn't, but I did. Let me in. I have to talk to you." 

She hesitated, but finally opened the door wide enough to let me enter. I looked briefly around her room. It was small and undecorated, just a narrow bed and a table. When I turned to her, she was in her flight position, her hands on the knob behind her, her face a question mark. 

_Where to begin? _I ran my hands through my hair, again frustrated by my inability to gather my thoughts. Finally, I just said what had been at the forefront of my mind since leaving Dos Pinos. "We have to leave." 

"What?" 

"You have to leave here, with me. Now or tonight―or maybe tomorrow, but we have to go." 

"I can't." 

"You have to." 

Something gave a little in her posture. "Mala will find me. There's no point in running." 

The last thing I expected was this indifference, this lack of hope. Where was the girl who'd thrown whiskey in my face last night, who'd tried to get in the first blow? 

"You should be afraid of me right now." I took a step toward her. 

"Why?" 

"Because this time Mala sent me." It came out more threatening than I'd intended, but damn it, I hated the way she was wilting into herself. 

Her eyes narrowed and she let go of the doorknob, pulling herself straighter and making fists with her hands. _Ah, this was more like it. _

"You son of a bitch. You goddamn son of a bitch. I fixed your fucking bike! And for what? So you could get your marching orders and come back here to torture me? I'm not going anywhere with you―you … you can go to hell!" Her eyes were scanning the room, most likely looking for a weapon, but there was nothing but a pile of paperback books on the table. She eyed them, no doubt wondering how much damage they could inflict. 

"I'm not going to hurt you, Bella. I got my marching orders, yes, but I had no idea until today my boss was Mala. None, I swear. And I didn't come back to do the job but to get you out of here. He called you a loose end. He wants you dead." 

She froze at that, then put her hands up, palms out. "Hold on. Your job is to _kill_ me?" 

"I'm not going to do it." I stepped back and watched her face as the reality of her situation swept over her. 

"But if you're not going to ..." she thought out loud, still working it out in her head. "If you don't do it, you're just as dead to Mala as I am." 

"Yeah, I suppose so." It was true, but why was she talking about me? 

I watched her eyes widen. "So I wouldn't have to worry about you. He'll want you dead, too." 

"What do I have to do with it?" 

"Mala told me if I ever tried to escape he'd kill not just me, but every single person who helped me, even people he wasn't sure about. That's what's been keeping me here. I didn't want anyone else to get hurt. But you, if you're not going to kill me, he'll want you dead, too." 

"Yeah." 

"But that still leaves Juanita and the other girls. When he finds out I'm gone, he'll take it out on them." 

"Not if he thinks I did the job." 

She didn't answer me for at least a minute, just stood there looking at me while she absorbed what I'd said. 

"So you're going to pretend to kill me?" 

"It's the only way. If he thinks you're dead, he won't send another hit on you, and he won't have any reason to retaliate against Juanita." 

She nodded, getting her head around the obvious. "And he won't come after you, either."

I shook my head in exasperation. "Will you stop thinking about me? I can take care of myself. It's you we have to focus on." I took a step toward her, and watched her tense up again. "Look, I can't force you to come with me, but you'd be stupid not to. I don't understand why you're hesitating." 

"I'm hesitating because I'm _not_ stupid. How do I know you're telling me the truth?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Maybe you did take the job. Maybe this is the first part, to get me to leave with you." 

Was she serious? I moved until I was standing right in front of her, and looked down into her eyes. She was still tense, but her fear had been replaced with defiance. "Bella," I said through gritted teeth, "if I'd taken the job, you wouldn't be standing here right now. I don't work that way. I don't talk to my targets first, I don't tell them what I do, and I don't try to convince them to go anywhere with me." 

She kept her eyes on mine, reading my sincerity. "Okay, then tell me why you didn't take the job." 

"I don't do women." 

"Why didn't you just leave, why did you come back here for me?" 

I let out a breath and stepped back, rubbing the back of my neck. "Can I sit down?" I gestured toward the bed and she nodded. 

"I came back because you surprised me last night." 

"Last night?" 

"And this morning, when you fixed my chain." 

She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one leg. "That doesn't answer my question." 

"It's not often someone surprises me, and you've managed to do it twice." I couldn't help but smile when she arched a brow. I felt like I was being interrogated by the world's youngest, prettiest D.A. "And if I leave without doing the job, Mala will just send someone else." 

She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, her tension visibly dissipating. "Okay. I believe you. So now what?" 

"Mala wants you dead, tonight, and he wants me to bring him proof tomorrow." 

"Proof? What kind of proof?" She sat on the other end of the bed, bringing one of her legs underneath her so that she was facing me. "How are you supposed to bring him proof if you're not really going to do it?" 

I leaned back against the wall. "He said a photo would do. If we stage it well enough, hopefully he'll fall for it. I'll take you somewhere safe when we're done." 

"Somewhere safe?" 

"Yeah, is there somewhere safe you want to go? Family, friends?" 

She shook her head. "The police, I guess." She sounded unsure. 

"The police?" My eyebrows shot up. 

"They've got to be looking for me." 

"Why?" 

"Mala kidnapped me." 

"He kidnapped you?" 

"I don't know what else you'd call it." She looked at me carefully, her brows furrowed. "And …" 

"And what?" I prompted, her voice having given out. 

"And he killed my mother." She said it quietly, her eyes still on mine. 

"What? He killed your mother?" 

"Well, it was either him or one of the two other men. I didn't actually see it happen." Her voice dropped again and she looked down at the bedspread. "I was in the living room." 

"When did this happen?" 

"I guess I've been here almost a month now." 

"Here?" 

"I've been here at Juanita's ever since that night." 

"Why did Mala kidnap you?" 

"I don't know. Well, at first I didn't know." 

I rubbed my face. This wasn't making any sense. If Bella had witnessed her mother's murder, why hadn't Mala killed her as well? Why would he bring her here, keep her here for a month, and then call me to do it? 

"Bella, I think before we start planning to get you out of here, I'd better know exactly what happened." 

She hesitated, her fingers picking at the bedspread. "Okay." 

When she didn't continue, I realized maybe that was asking too much. "Never mind. You don't have to tell me."

"No, it's not that I don't want to, or that I don't trust you." She looked at me apologetically. "I haven't told anyone what happened that night, and it's just hard to find the words to start." 

"Take your time," I gave her a small smile of encouragement. She nodded and smiled back. 

"Okay. I was living with my mom in Phoenix. I'd moved in just a couple weeks before to go to vet school at ASU this fall. The night it happened, we were going to watch a movie together, have margaritas―a girls' night―Mom wanted to celebrate something that had happened at her work. So we were just getting started when the doorbell rang. Mom went to get it." She paused and squeezed her eyes shut. "I heard a man's voice and then what sounded like a shot." She opened her eyes and looked at me. "I ran into the hall, and there were three men in the doorway, and my mom was on the floor. There was blood ..." She dug her hands into the bedspread. "The men looked surprised to see me there. I didn't even think about what I did next." She looked stricken. "I just ran." 

"That's what anyone would do." 

"Still, I just left her there." 

"You couldn't do anything but save yourself. It's instinct. Trust me. I know." 

She weighed my words carefully and actually seemed reassured. 

"So I ran back through the living room, out the patio, through the yard … I got to the street, looking for help, anybody, but no one was there. I could hear someone chasing me, so I kept going until I got to the store―the convenience store on the corner. I'd just gotten under its lights, when whoever was chasing me caught up to me. He grabbed me and stuck a gun here." She put a hand on her ribcage. "I was sure he was going to kill me. I was sure of it. But instead, a second later a car pulled up to the curb and he pushed me in the back seat. He hit me on the head with the gun, really hard, like he was trying to knock me out. I curled up in the corner and pretended he had so that he wouldn't hit me again." 

"Good thinking." Damn, she was smart. 

"We drove all night. The other two men were in the front seats, all of them arguing in Spanish. The driver was on the phone a lot, but I couldn't tell what they were talking about. When it started getting light, I tried to peek out the window, look for road signs, trying to figure out where we were, but the guy next to me noticed and hit me with the gun again. Asshole." 

I couldn't help but smirk. 

"I curled up again, and the next thing I knew, we were here." 

"Juanita's?" 

She nodded. "The driver went in, then came back out and dragged me into this room. I've been here ever since." 

"So you had no idea who these guys were, why they shot your mother?" 

"No idea at all. Why would anyone kill her? She was a nurse, a good person." She looked sad but also determined not to cry. I supposed after a month, she'd done her grieving. 

"So where does Mala come in?" 

"He was the driver, the one in charge. When he threw me in here, he said he'd kill me if I tried to escape, kill everyone in the house, burn it down. He spoke in perfect English, and I believed him. Juanita was the only person I saw for the first few days. She brought me meals. She felt so bad for me, I could tell, and I realized I couldn't do anything to escape or he'd kill her. I was trapped." 

"And this was a month ago?" 

"Yeah, roughly. I don't know what today is." 

"September 18th." 

"Almost a month, then." 

"So what happened next?" 

"Well, I had no idea what was going on, and Juanita didn't know anything either. I figured it was a good thing that they hadn't decided to kill me, but I couldn't think of a reason why they hadn't." 

"Yeah, I don't get that either." 

"Right? There wasn't any reason to keep me alive, none that I could figure out anyway. It wasn't until Mala came back that I knew." 

"He came back?" 

"Four or five days later, I'm not sure. He came in the room and sat there, right where you are, just staring at me. I stayed as far away from him as I could, but you can see how small this room is. And the way he was looking at me ... I think those five minutes were the most scared I'd ever been in my life, more than when they'd first kidnapped me." She shuddered and crossed her arms. "Then he smiled at me, said he hoped I was comfortable here because I was going to stay a little longer. I said something like people would be looking for me, the police would find me, and he laughed, really hard, like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard." 

"He laughed?" 

"Yeah, he said something about enemies becoming friends and friends enemies, but I didn't understand what he was talking about, and I didn't want to ask him." 

Friends and enemies, he'd said something to me about that, too. 

"The next week was terrible. Mala came every day. He'd sit on my bed and look me over, tell me how pretty I was. Tell me how if I cooperated, there was a way out for me. It was beyond creepy. He started using endearments, like we were friends, no, more than friends. The man who'd killed my mother. I couldn't tell if he was being serious or trying to fuck with my head. One second he'd be calling me his pretty niña, and in the next he'd tell me he'd kill me, Juanita, and all the other girls if I tried to escape. I decided he was some kind of psychopath." 

I remembered the way he'd clapped my shoulder moments after threatening my life and knew exactly what she was talking about. I nodded for her to go on. 

"It seemed best to just let him talk. I almost never answered him except to repeat what he'd said. He thought that was funny. He said I was his pajarita, his little bird. That's what he called me most often, pajarita." She shuddered in disgust. "I hate birds." 

"I thought you said you were going to be vet." 

"Cats, Edward. Dogs. Nothing with feathers. They're just … stupid." 

"Stupid, got it." 

She took a breath and continued. "So, after about a week, I guess he decided he'd worked his charm, or maybe he'd taken my relative silence as agreement. I don't know. Maybe he'd just gotten impatient." She was clutching at the bedspread again. 

"You don't have to tell me anything that's too difficult." I wasn't sure I wanted to hear this part. 

"No, it's not too difficult. He used to walk around me, touching my arms, my hair, nothing too personal but―ugh―it took every inch of my self-control to stand still when he did. Finally one day, he tried to hug me, kiss me … and I kind of went ballistic. I don't know where I found the energy, frankly, since I hadn't been able to eat much since I'd been here, but something inside of me just snapped. The man who killed my mother, thinking he could touch me like that. I attacked him with everything I had." 

I couldn't help but smile a little. I bet he never saw that coming. 

"He managed to throw me on the floor and just stood there over me, like he was stunned that I'd rejected him. But then he turned into a completely different person. He got angry. He said if he was going to keep his pajarita at a whorehouse, I could start earning my keep. He kicked me, called me a puta, said I'd soon learn what that word meant. He left and I heard him arguing with Juanita. She came in a while later to make sure I was okay and to tell me she was supposed to start sending me customers. I started crying. I said I'd rather Mala just kill me. Juanita told me not worry, that she'd do her best to protect me. That turned out to be the last time I saw him." 

"So by this time you'd been here about two weeks?" 

"I think so. There isn't that much left to tell you about. The week after that was better because Mala didn't come anymore, and Juanita never sent me to a customer. I didn't know how long that was going to continue, though. Every night I'd lay in bed and try to think of ways to escape, but I could never come up with anything that didn't involve someone helping me. I had nothing―no money, no clothes but the ones I was wearing. Juanita'd told me we were in New Mexico, but I had no idea where. There just didn't seem to be a way out." 

I watched her fist the blanket again. "I knew my luck couldn't hold forever and it didn't. One night Juanita tapped on my door and said I had a customer, someone who'd been sent by Mala, asking specifically for me. I knew there wasn't anything she could do. She was as upset as I was, but I told her I'd be okay. Still, it was like being led to the gallows, walking down that hall." She shook her head and laughed at little. 

"What's so funny?" 

"It was the man who'd ridden in the back seat with me all the way from Phoenix, the one who seemed to like hitting me with his gun. As soon as I recognized him, I punched him in the face. Then I got him with my knee. A lot harder than I got you." 

I winced involuntarily. 

"He was out of there in less than a minute. But I knew he'd go back to Mala and tell him I still wasn't cooperating and that I'd probably be in worse trouble. I was afraid Mala would send someone tougher, someone who'd be warned that I fought. You were the next customer I had, so I thought that someone was you." 

Now I understood why Juanita had sent Bella to my room last night. She was trying to protect her, sending her to someone she trusted. "Why wouldn't you leave last night when I said you could go?" 

"I figured if you really weren't from Mala, he could still send someone―but if I was with you, then Mala's man couldn't see me, and it would look like I was cooperating." 

I smiled a little, impressed with her thinking. I rubbed my face and rested my head against the wall, suddenly tired again and no nearer to figuring out how to get her out of here. 

"You look tired." 

"I didn't sleep well last night. Someone kept waking me up." I smiled again, so she would know I wasn't upset but kept my eyes closed. 

"I didn't mean to. I really didn't." 

"I know. Don't worry. I'm tired but I can function." 

We were silent for a couple of minutes, both of us thinking. 

"I can't sit here any more." 

"What?" I opened my eyes. Bella was off the bed and slipping on her flip-flops. 

"I can't sit still when I'm thinking. I'm going to go check your chain. See if it needs cleaning again." 

I closed my eyes again, listening to her footsteps clip down the hallway. She needed a pair of real shoes, something she could run in if she had to. I pictured her in some Converse, but she looked too young. Maybe boots. Yeah, that was what she needed - good sturdy hiking boots. No, something with a heel. Better. Much better. 

"Edward, wake up." 

I opened my eyes, completely sure I hadn't been asleep. Bella was frowning over me, her hand on my shoulder. 

"Boots," I answered. 

"What?" 

"You need some real shoes or boots or something." I rubbed my face, hoping that had sounded passably intelligent. 

"Okay." She sounded like she was talking to an idiot, so I guessed not. "But first you need to see something." 

"What is it?" 

"Something on your bike. Come on." 

I followed her down the hall and out to the courtyard. She had the sprocket cover off my bike and my tool kit out. 

"It is my chain again?" 

"No, something else. Look." 

She pointed under the chassis. "This wasn't here this morning." 

I squatted down next to her. She was pointing to a tiny rectangle fixed to the bottom of the bike. Shit. 

"What is it?" 

"A tracking device. Mala must have had it put on when I was at his house." 

"Should I take it off?" Her fingers circled it, looking like they were itching to rip it to shreds. 

"No, not yet. Let me think." I stood up and looked around the courtyard. "So he knows I'm already here, that I didn't wait until tonight to come. He must be wondering what I'm doing." 

"Getting the lay of the land?" 

"What land, Bella? There's nothing here but a house full of women. Plus, I told him I knew the place, so there's no reason for me to scope it out." 

"Okay, sorry." 

"No, it's okay. I'm just trying to get in his head, figure out what he's thinking right now." I kicked some dust. "What would I be doing here other than warning you off or doing the job?" 

"You wouldn't be warning me off. You'd be doing the job." 

"Yeah. I'd be doing the job." 

"In broad daylight?" 

"Sometimes. A place as secluded as this, why not?" 

"But you're on the books, aren't you? I heard Juanita make the entry this morning when you paid." 

I turned and looked at her. "That's it. That's what I'm doing here." 

"What? I don't get it." 

"I'm cleaning the books or getting Juanita to do it. Erasing my visits, clearing my trail." 

"So it will look like you've never been here?" 

"Exactly. Mala knows how I am about leaving a paper trail. If he asks, that's what I'll tell him."  
>Bella started wiping at the chain with a rag, being careful not to touch the tracker. "So what would you do next? After coming here and cleaning the books?" <p>

"I'd leave, go to a motel for the rest of the day. Come back tonight." 

"You should do that, then, so Mala doesn't get suspicious." 

I watched her keep wiping. We still had a lot of shit to figure out, and I wanted to figure it out together, wanted us to be a hundred percent on the same page when we made our move. I couldn't risk taking her to a motel with me, but she was right, I couldn't leave my bike here all afternoon. 

"Do you trust Juanita?" 

"Yes, I do." She stopped wiping and looked up at me. "Why?" 

"We're going to need another vehicle." 

She stood up. "I don't want her to get hurt." 

"Don't worry about me, Bella!" We turned and Juanita emerged from the front door. She came down the steps, her pace determined. "I was listening, forgive me. I have a truck you can use." 

"Juanita, this could be really dangerous. I can't promise either of you that you won't get hurt." 

"Si, Eduardo, I know." She waved aside my warning. "But I was hoping for something like this to happen. Why do you think I sent Bella to you last night? I knew when you pulled up here yesterday, you were the best chance she had at getting out." 

Bella and I exchanged glances, both of us confused. 

"I knew Bella would put up a fight but also that you wouldn't force her." 

"But you still let me pay the full price this morning?" 

She shrugged. "Well, I am running a business, Eduardo. A customer tells me he wants to pay the full amount, who am I to argue?" 

I couldn't help but smile at her. Bella crossed her arms and looked down, trying harder to hide her own smile.

"I was just hoping that she'd get under your skin, that you'd want to help her. As for Mala, the sooner we get Bella out of here, the sooner he's off my back. So"―she smiled up at me―"what's the plan?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The first thing to do was move my bike. I rode to the motel closest to town, parked in the lot, got a room, and then walked to the nearest cafe. Ten minutes later I put a couple of dollars under my coffee cup, got up to use the restroom, and slipped out the backdoor. Juanita was waiting in her truck, and when she saw me climb into the bed in her rear-view mirror, she pulled away and headed back to her place. Bella was waiting for us in the guest room we'd shared the night before, and the three of us spent the next few hours going over every conceivable detail until a viable plan took shape. It was going to take precision and a lot of luck, but we had a good chance of making it work.

At six, Juanita drove me back to town. I slipped out of the bed of the truck behind a bodega and went in to buy a few things we were going to need, while Juanita headed home to clean her books of my visits. I walked back to the motel and got to work on my phone, clearing every scrap of data in its memory and pocketing the SIM card. For the rest of the night it was nothing but a camera.

At seven, I checked out of the motel and rode back to Juanita's. We'd decided that it didn't make sense to kill Bella here because I couldn't move a dead body on my bike, so we made up a scenario in which I'd somehow convinced Bella to go for a ride with me. After about twenty minutes of going over the details one final time, I told her we should go. She climbed on the bike behind me, and we headed north out of town into open desert. I turned off the road at the mile marker Juanita'd told us about and found the trail she'd described, following it for another couple of miles before turning off to the right. We got to the cliff a minute later.

"You ready to do this?" I asked, turning off my bike.

"Yep. Let's go. We don't have much daylight left." She got off the bike first, and I grabbed the shopping bag from the bodega out of my pannier. We walked together to the edge of the cliff.

"Okay, let's see how good an actress you are." I pulled my phone out and hit the button for the camera, getting Bella in focus. "Give me your first inkling that something's wrong."

Bella looked into the camera, then down into the ravine. She looked back up at me with real fear dawning on her face and I took her picture. Perfect. Next I took a picture of her trying to run away while I grabbed her with my free hand. That one was harder to make look realistic but I finally got a good one that had just the right amount of blur.

The next few shots were going to the trickiest. I pulled the rope out of the bag and Bella turned around, putting her hands behind her back. I wrapped her wrists as loosely as I could while still making the binds look tight. I figured if I really was going to kill a fighter like Bella, I'd have to restrain her somehow. I didn't bother with her ankles, though. Instead, I gently rubbed some dust on her face to make it look like I'd thrown her to the ground enough times to daze her.

Jesus, this was getting creepy. Bella must have read my mind because she gave me an encouraging smile as I finished with her face.

"You're being very trusting," I smiled back.

"I do trust you."

"You didn't last night."

"No, it wasn't until I woke up this morning that I really believed you hadn't been sent by Mala."

I helped her get down on her knees not far from the edge of the ravine. "Why was that?" I pulled my gun out of its holster and took a picture of me holding it to the back of her head, her tied wrists visible at the bottom of the frame and just enough of her face to show the dirt I'd rubbed on.

"You kept your promise not to touch me."

I helped her back to her feet. "Okay, time for the special effects." I handed her the bag and she fished out the other things I'd bought. "I'll make the blood, you do your face." I opened the jar of corn syrup and poured out about an inch, then added two tubes of red food coloring. I stirred it together with a knife we'd borrowed from Juanita's kitchen while I watched Bella use a black eyeliner to draw to a small circle on her forehead, peering into the compact mirror I'd bought. It didn't look much like a bullet hole, but I was hoping that if we got the blood to look realistic and I took the shot at the right angle, it would be passable.

She looked up at me as she finished her face. "I'm sorry I hit you."

"The knee thing was the worst. That was a big surprise."

"You've never been kneed by a prostitute before?" She said it with a small grin.

"Can't say that I have." I held the bottle up the sun to see if it was well-mixed. "I still can't."

"Does it still hurt?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Good. Okay, how should I lay?"

I helped her get in position. "You'd fall forwards, then a little to the side. Just let your weight go, but keep your arms back as if they're still tied."

"Wouldn't you do it so I'd just fall over the cliff?"

"Normally, yeah, but I need pictures this time. Now, let every single muscle in your body go slack."

"Should my eyes be open?"

"Were they open when I shot you?"

"No."

"Then no, they'd stay closed." I stood up and looked down at her. "That's perfect. Try to hold that while I make a puddle under your head." I gently lifted her head a couple inches off the ground and poured out some corn syrup. It wasn't quite as red as blood, but I was hoping that in the fading light of evening, the camera wouldn't catch the slightly off color. "You're going to get some in your hair."

"That's okay. It'll wash out."

I eased her head back down onto the puddle and added a little more syrup for good measure. Then I looked at her bullet wound again. If I'd shot her in the back of the head and the bullet had left through her forehead, there would be blood trickling down her face. I crouched down again and used the edge of the knife to drip corn syrup onto her forehead, watching it slowly slide down into the dust.

She opened her eyes to watch me, and then cast her gaze toward the horizon. "So the bullet would have gone in to the ravine?"

We seemed to be thinking alike. "Yeah. There's no reason for me to pretend to find it."

I stood and took the picture. It wasn't perfect but she definitely looked dead. Only a forensics expert would catch the mistakes we'd made, and I highly doubted Mala would be sending these photos off to a crime lab.

I put the rope and bag back in the pannier and scuffed the corn syrup puddle into the dust. "Now we fuck with the tracker."

"Right."

We got back on the bike and I rode slowly along the edge of cliff, stopping occasionally for a few minutes, then either circling back or heading forwards, trying to leave a random pattern. If Mala was watching this right now, he'd know where I'd taken Bella to kill her, but would have a much harder time actually finding the body, if that's what he chose to do. After about twenty minutes, I came to a stop and turned off the engine.

Now that the sun was going down, we were in more of a hurry to get the last two shots. Bella didn't waste any time walking to the edge of the ravine. "So where would you throw me?"

"Over there, into those bushes. Your body isn't supposed to be found, so what I'd do is first throw you down, then climb after you and hide you from view."

"But you want a picture of my body first?"

"Yeah, to prove that I threw you down there."

"Okay, give me a couple of minutes." She took off her flip-flops and tucked them into the waistband of her jeans, then grabbed the pair of Keds Juanita'd given her and slipped them on. She went over the edge of the ravine facing me, giving me a reassuring smile as she reached for the first handhold, a clump of sagebrush. The ravine was about fifty yards deep and steep enough that while climbing down was probably easy enough, the prospect of getting back up already had me worried.

I watched Bella continue to descend. She was being careful, but moving quickly, just like I'd told her, and about fifteen minutes later she'd reached the bushes. Now she had to make it look like I'd thrown her over. She switched back into her flip-flops, making sure the Keds were out of the picture, and got on the ground, laying just in front of the bushes with her arms over her head and her legs at odd angles, even thinking at the last minute to kick off one of the flip-flops. I took the picture, making sure there wasn't enough background to pinpoint exactly where she was laying, and scrambled down after her.

"That was perfect. Now let's get you under the bushes." We crawled into the thicket and I pointed to an area that was well-covered. "I'd leave you over there."

"Stretched out like this? Like you'd dragged me?" She lay on her back with her arms extended.

"No, I wouldn't want to leave you that open. I'd curl you up." I brought her knees up and rolled her onto her side, bringing her hands together in front of her. "And I'd cover you some more." I grabbed some branches and leaves from the ground and improvised a blanket of sorts.

"Have you ever done this before? After a job, I mean?"

"No, never. Why?"

"It feels more like you're tucking me in."

"I guess I am." Without realizing it, I'd been using the same care I had last night when she'd woken me up with her shivering. This time, however, she was awake and watching me again.

I put one final branch lightly across her face. If any part of her were to be visible from above, it would be her pale skin. "There. Now hold really still." I fished my phone out of my pocket and took the last shot. "Done."

She sat up and brushed herself off. "It looks okay?"

I handed her the phone. "You look like a pile of leaves, but there's your foot sticking out."

"So that's me if I were dead and buried in the desert."

"Pretty much."

"I'd begun to think that's where I'd actually end up." She gave me back the phone and I turned it off.

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

"Ironic." She smiled and started crawling her way out the thicket, leaving me laughing to myself behind her.

A minute later we were standing together looking up at the wall of the ravine. "It looks a lot steeper from down here," she frowned.

"Yeah, it does. But come on, we got down, we can get back up. And it's getting dark, so we should hurry."

"Okay. Let me go first, though, all right? I need to know you're behind me." She reached for a clump of grass and started pulling herself up. I let her get a few yards ahead of me and then I started up beneath her. She made good progress at first and we were half way up after about ten minutes of climbing. Then I noticed she was slowing down significantly. "Are you getting tired?" I yelled up to her.

"No." Her answer was so quiet I barely caught it.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." She didn't sound convincing but she managed to pull herself up another few yards. By then, I'd caught up enough that I could see her feet shaking as she searched for toeholds.

"You can do it, Bella. We're almost there. Just don't look down."

"Okay."

stayed right beneath her the rest of the way, sometimes even reaching up to help her find footholds. When we got to within a few feet of the top, I clambered around her and climbed up over the edge, reaching back down for her hand. She gave it to me, and I pulled her up next to me, noticing she was paler than usual, and that her whole body was trembling. Instinctively I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her. "It's okay, you made it."

She burrowed her head into my chest, clinging to the sides of my shirt, not really hugging me back but letting me hold her until her shaking stopped. Then she pulled away enough to look up at me apologetically. "I didn't want to tell you before, when we were planning this, but I'm afraid of heights."

"I figured that out. By why are you afraid of heights, of all things?" Considering what she'd been through, climbing up the ravine should have been relatively easy.

"Because … because they're stupid."

"Yeah, they are. Very." I smiled down at her. The sun had set but there was still a glow in the sky reflecting off her eyes when she smiled back, like chocolate mixed with orange. "We should get going. We still have a lot to do."

Her smile changed to a look of embarrassment as she realized my arms were still around her, and she stepped back, turning toward the bike.

"So next we go to Deming?"

"Yep. You ready?"

"I am. Are you?"

"Almost." I offered Bella a drink from a bottle of water, then used a little bit to rinse off my hands, wiping them dry on my jeans. I poured a little more water out onto my fingers and reached up to try to wash away the fake bullet hole on Bella's forehead.

She flinched away from my touch. "Don't worry about it. No one's going to see me. I'll shower when we get to the motel."

A half hour later we pulled into Deming, a town about 10 miles east of Medina and just a little further from Dos Pinos. I was used to leaving immediately after a hit so I didn't feel like I would go back to the motel in Medina. Bella, Juanita and I had agreed that I'd stay the night in the area, but not return to their town. Plus, there was no way I could ride back into Medina with Bella on the back of my bike. We chose Deming for its proximity and the fact that its sole motel was an odd mile out of town, poorly lit and rarely frequented.

I stopped at a light a quarter mile from the motel and let Bella dismount. "Stay off the road. I'll park in front of the room."

"Got it."

I put my bike back in gear and continued on to the motel. Checking in was a breeze and ten minutes later I heard a soft knock. I hurried to the door and cracked it an inch, then pulled Bella in and closed the door behind her. "Anyone see you?"

"No. At least, I don't think so."

So far so good. I left to get us some dinner, returning with enough to feed one very hungry man or a normal man and a girl with a small appetite. We ate sitting on the bed, Bella digging in with more relish than I'd expected, leaving me with less than half.

"That was delicious, the best thing I've eaten in a long time." She'd showered while I was gone and the makeup was off her face, her hair hanging in wet tendrils. She looked tired, but more relaxed than I'd seen yet.

"Are you kidding?" I asked, hoping to draw her out even further. "Nothing's as good as Juanita's cooking."

"Depends on your circumstances, I guess," she answered, taking my question seriously. "This" - she gestured over the greasy wrappers of that moments ago held burgers and fries - "was amazing. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

She looked up at me with a small smile. "So now we wait?"

I nodded. "I think we should leave around two." I set the alarm on my phone and then compulsively checked its memory one more time.

"Do you have internet on that?" She was staring at my phone, her face drawn back into a frown.

"Yeah."

"Can I look something up?" Her fingers twisted into the bedspread, her frown deepening.

I started to give her the phone. "You can, depending."

"On what?"

"You can't log into anything that would show you're alive."

"I wasn't going to. I just want to look up what happened to my mom. Is that okay?"

"Should be." I put the phone in her palm and watched her go online as I gathered up the food wrappers. Her brows furrowed as she worked the little keyboard, and I suppressed a smile as I watched her hit the 'back' button more times than not. Finally she got the search results she wanted and started scrolling. She tapped the screen once and scanned the text.

"No."

"What?"

"No." She talked to herself as she continued reading. "No. No. Motherfuckers. What the hell? That's impossible."

"What's impossible?"

She looked up at me and handed me the phone. "It doesn't make any sense."

I skimmed through the article she'd brought up on a Phoenix news website. Rene Swan's death had been ruled a suicide … single gunshot wound to the chest … neighbors called the police … despondent over losing her job … no survivors.

"Bella, the police aren't always right. They fuck up a lot."

"They didn't get anything right."

"Like what?"

"Like why would anyone shoot themselves in their front hallway?" She glowered at me like I was the one trying to put this over on her.

"I don't know, but it's possible, isn't it?"

"She hadn't lost her job. We were celebrating something that had happened at work. She was happy."

"Maybe she didn't want you to know."

"Mom wasn't like that. She always told me the truth." Bella rolled her eyes in exasperation. "And there's no mention of the fact that there were two margarita glasses in the family room, that the patio door was left open."

"Mala's men would have taken care of that." It was my turn to frown, irritated that her questions were making me defend the police.

"Okay. But what about the last sentence?"

I looked back at the screen. "No survivors. Again, obviously sloppy work?"

"Sloppy's an understatement." She got up and started pacing. "My things were there, in the guest bedroom. I'd enrolled at ASU, using my mom's address. Any simple search should have turned that up." She turned toward me. "What's going on?"

"I don't know." I didn't. Either the police in Phoenix were incredibly inept, or something else was happening. I scrolled back to the top of the article to check the date. It was almost three weeks old, about the time Mala'd started coming to visit Bella at Juanita's.

Bella continued pacing while I cleared the phone's memory one more time and got up to put it on the nightstand. "So I guess the police haven't been looking for me," she muttered.

"I guess not, but you can sort it out with them tomorrow." Thinking about tomorrow reminded me how much we still had to do, and how little sleep we were going to do it on. "Come on, we need to get some rest." I gestured for her to lay down. She sighed and nodded, bending to slip off her sneakers and then laying down on top of the bedspread.

"You can get under the covers." I pulled off my boots and shucked off my shirt. "I'm not doing to do anything."

"I know you're not. It's just weird getting in bed with someone you don't know." She got up and pulled the blanket down on her side, then reached over to pull it down on mine as well.

I started on my jeans. "We slept together last night, and we've been together most of today. Hell, this is one of the longest relationships I've ever had."

She laughed at that, a genuine laugh that went to her eyes. Yeah, she was more than just pretty. "What, the same woman two nights in a row?"

"More like any woman two nights in a row." I couldn't help but return her grin.

"Ooh, the lone wolf. Turn around."

"Why?"

"So I can take off my jeans, why do you think?" She made a spin move with her hand and gave me a look like I was being an idiot.

I guess I was used to less modest company when I had it, and couldn't help but grin again as I turned around until she gave me the all clear. I got in next to her and sighed, laying on my back with my eyes closed. I was tired, behind on my sleep, and I wasn't going to catch up tonight.

Bella reached up to turn off the light and the room darkened to only the faint glow of the neon motel sign. I felt her settle back down and she sighed too. "What happens if Mala doesn't fall for it?"

"I don't know. But you'll be with the police, so you won't have to worry."

"No, I mean you. Will he come after you?"

"He might, but he won't find me."

"Does he know where you live?"

"He knows the city. I don't know if he knows my address." Actually, I was pretty sure he did. Why would he just randomly know the city I lived in, but not exactly where?

"But if he does know, it could be really dangerous to go back."

"I only need a few hours."

She made a sound like she was going to say something else, then sighed again and rolled over.

Sleep came almost immediately. When my alarm went off, I jerked awake and fumbled for my phone, turning it off and falling back on my pillow for another moment of rest. I realized Bella hadn't woken me once during the night and instinctively turned to check on her. She was on her side facing me, still asleep, her head down near my shoulder. At the same moment I turned toward her, she slipped a hand over my arm and pulled herself fractionally closer.

"Bella, wake up." I covered her hand with mine and gave it a small shake. "It's time to go."

She tilted her head and opened her eyes. I couldn't see her expression but I felt like she wasn't sure where she was.

"It's me. Edward." Her hand tightened on my arm, and I ran my fingers over hers reassuringly. "It's two o'clock. Are you awake?"

"Edward?"

"Yeah. Come on, wake up."

She slid her hand out from under mine and rolled onto her back. "I'm awake."

Thirty minutes later Bella and I cruised past Mala's hacienda. I put my bike in neutral as we crested the hill and tossed my phone over the gate, hoping it landed in plain view, and quickly turned the bike around. Bella had insisted that I not meet Mala again, that she didn't trust that asking for proof wasn't a trap. In fact, it made a lot more sense that I would leave in the middle of the night, unable to linger after a hit. I was dropping off proof, like he'd asked, but still doing things my way.

We rode northeast toward Albuquerque. The plan was to park at a service shop, stay there long enough after it opened to make it look like I was getting some work done, then chuck the tracker in the garbage as if I'd discovered it there. Once the tracker was off my bike, I'd take Bella to the police and be on my way.

The road was deserted this time of night, and I settled in for a long ride. I was already used to Bella's arms around my waist but now I could relax and enjoy the warmth of her body against my back and legs. She fit perfectly behind me, perched up enough on the back seat that she could lay her head on my shoulder. I wished we'd had time to get her a helmet, but at least I'd thought to give her my jacket. She was a natural rider, too, knowing exactly how to shift her weight on turns, how to lean in with me when I accelerated, how to loosen her hold when I needed to slow. In fact, she was so easy to ride with that I might have forgotten she was there if it weren't for the occasional strand of her hair that blew up into my peripheral vision. That, and the warmth of her body.

We got to Albuquerque just after seven. I stopped for gas and Bella checked the chain while I went inside to ask if there were any bike shops nearby.

"Don't think so." The kid behind the counter looked tired, like he was just coming off his shift. He also looked like he hadn't given my question a brainwave of thought.

I heard the tinkle of the door opening behind me. "I just need someone to look at the engine. How about an auto shop?"

"Phone books are over there. You can look one up." He gestured toward the front of the store, his eyes widening.

"Hey," Bella said quietly, coming to stand next to me. "Were you able to find a bike shop?" She smiled up at me. The night's ride had blown her hair back from her face and although she still looked tired, it was a good kind of tired.

"No, not yet."

She turned to the cashier. "Oh, you don't know any? We really need help. Our bike's making a funny noise and it'll break my heart if we don't make it my grandmother's in time for dinner tonight. She's making chicken." Bella put her hand through my arm and gave the cashier a hopeful smile.

"Um, yeah, actually, now that I think about it, there is a place not too far."

"Really? How do we get there?" She leaned in a little bit, her tone of voice making him her hero.

"Uh, you just go up the street – well, actually, it'd be easier to draw you a map." The clerk fished out a piece of paper and five minutes later we were getting back on the bike.

"Well done," I smirked at her over my shoulder as she climbed on behind me.

"Thanks."

"So, off to grandma's?" I opened the throttle.

**"**Hell, no. I hate chicken. Birds, remember?"

I laughed, started the engine and we followed the directions to the bike shop. It didn't open until nine, so we parked and walked down the street, looking for a place to get breakfast. When we found one, Bella went to use the restroom while I ordered two coffees. I watched her come back, stopping to talk to a waitress on the way.

"The nearest police station is two miles east of here. On Paseo Real."

"How'd you find that out?"

"I told that waitress I thought we'd witnessed an accident last night and that we wanted to report it."

She was good. I gave her an approving nod as the same waitress came over to take our orders.

After breakfast, we walked back to the bike shop, getting there just as it opened. The man unlocking the door saw us near my bike and asked what we needed. Before I could answer, Bella reached up and whispered that maybe I should get it looked at before I left. I couldn't think of a reason not to, so I told the guy that my chain's lube system wasn't working right and asked if he could look at it right away. He nodded and I pushed my bike into the service area. Whether he found the tracking device or not didn't matter. It was coming off here.

My bike's lube system had stopped working, but luckily the shop had the part I needed in stock. The mechanic hadn't caught the tracker and while I was paying, I thought again about smart Bella was. She'd caught the tracker, she'd gotten directions to the bike shop, hell - she'd figured out what was wrong with my chain in the first place.

When I pulled up in front of the police station, Bella stayed on my bike, her arms tightening around me like she didn't want to let go. That was fine with me. Something was bothering me about this, something wasn't right. It wasn't just that I didn't want her to let go, that I would worry about her, it was something else, something in the news report. No survivors … it just didn't make any sense.

"Thanks again, Edward, for everything." Bella finally dismounted and slipped off my jacket. "Would you do me one last favor? If I give you my email, will you write to let me know you're okay?"

My jacket was warm as I shrugged it back on. "Sure. I'll want to hear back that you're okay, though, too."

I repeated her address back to make sure I had it, and then watched her start to walk toward the front door, thinking how surreal it was that I'd met her thirty-six hours ago, then was hired to kill her, yet here we were wishing each other well, concerned about each others' safety. I felt like I was saying good-bye to a friend. Friends … that reminded me of something. What the hell had Mala said? _Enemies were now friends_. "Bella!"

"What?" She turned, her hand on the door.

"Get back on the bike. Get back on the fucking bike!"

**Thank you all so much who are fans of this story; a lot of you are asking me how often I update, and I can assure you the whole thing's written, so it's just a matter of passing it by my betas**.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Bella took one look at my face and got back on behind me without a word. I steered randomly toward downtown Albuquerque, my mind racing, her hands tight fists in my shirt. She'd been right; there was something extremely wrong with the news report. Mala making her mother's murder look like a suicide was one thing, but there being no survivors – that just didn't make sense. Any simple police search should have found that she had a daughter. They were covering that up. Why? I didn't know and couldn't guess, but the second Bella'd reached the police station door, it hit me that Mala hadn't wanted Bella's body to turn up, and he'd never made that stipulation before. Either he was working for the police, or more likely, they were working for him. Enemies had become friends.

We passed a parking garage and on impulse I pulled in, pushed the button for a ticket, and found a deserted corner on an upper floor.

"I don't think you should trust the police," I said, killing the engine.

"Okay. I wasn't sure I could either."

"Why didn't you say something?" I turned around to look her.

She bit her lip and looked up me with a worried face. "I couldn't think of anywhere else to go, and I knew you wanted to leave as soon as you could. I didn't want to slow you down."

I took a deep breath and let it out. We stayed on the bike, her hands resting at the back of my hips. "It doesn't matter that much how quickly I get to Chicago. Either Mala's men will already be waiting for me, or they won't. I have time to take you somewhere else. What about the bus station? I'll buy you a ticket, but I wouldn't go to Phoenix if I were you."

"The only place I know anyone is Seattle. I guess I could go there, it's just—"

"Just what?"

"Mala knew I'd lived there. He told me once his cartel had moved up the west coast, and I wouldn't be safe there either. But if he thinks I'm dead, it should be okay to go there, right?"

"If he thinks you're dead, if he fell for it."

"He must have, Edward." I felt her rest her forehead between my shoulder blades. "Yeah, take me to the bus station. I'll go to Seattle."

I didn't like that idea anymore, though. If Mala didn't believe I'd killed Bella, then he might look for her there. "How'd you like to come to Chicago with me?"

"What?"

"I can't imagine his cartel's reached all the way to Chicago. It ought to be safe to go to the police there."

"Are you sure?"

"No, but it's got to be safer than any of the police down here."

"No, I mean are you sure it's okay if I come with you?"

"Yeah," I shrugged. "I don't mind at all." I actually didn't.

I felt her let out a deep breath. "Thank you, Edward. I was kind of hoping you'd ask me."

I smiled at her over my shoulder. "You sure you can stand two more days of me?" She nodded and smiled back, her arms slipping around my waist. "Then let's go get you a helmet."

A helmet wasn't the only thing she needed. She'd been wearing the same clothes for more than a day, didn't have a jacket, or anything to sleep in—no toothbrush for that matter. I started the engine and pulled out of the garage, the attendant waving us through when he saw how little time we'd been there. I continued downtown and got lucky, finding a shopping mall within ten minutes.

"Okay," I said, holding the door for her. "You need a helmet, some boots, and a jacket. If the helmet doesn't have a visor, get some big sunglasses." I pulled out my wallet and handed her some cash, checking first to make sure I had enough after the unexpected repair bill. "Get whatever else you need for two days travel."

"I'll pay you back. I have some money."

"Don't worry about the money. Worry about how you always seem to know what I'm thinking. It's weird."

She chuckled. "You were counting your cash. What else would you be thinking?"

"You're pretty smart, you know that?" We started walking down the first hallway of shops.

"Full scholarship to ASU. So, yeah."

"Really." I looked over at her. "That's impressive."

She shrugged and looked a little embarrassed. "If I ever get there."

"You'll get there. On my word of honor."

"Okay, wolf."

Wolf? She didn't seem to notice what she'd called me as a sporting goods store caught her eye. "Maybe I can find a helmet in here."

"Good luck. I'll meet you in the food court in an hour."

"You're not coming in with me?"

"No, I have to go get a new phone."

"Okay. See you soon."

She turned into the store, and I headed to the nearest phone kiosk. I got the new version of the phone I'd just gotten rid of, picked up a coffee, and went to wait for Bella. I played with the new features for a while and then went online, checking my main bank account. It was the same as when I'd left Chicago. Mala hadn't paid me yet, and he always paid me the next morning. Always. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I tried to calm myself down. Maybe he hadn't found the phone. Maybe it broke when I threw it over the gate. Maybe he had to show the 'proof' to someone else before he could pay me. But maybe, the biggest maybe pounding in my head, maybe he hadn't bought it.

"What's wrong?"

I hadn't noticed Bella join me at the table. She was sitting across from me, her face in a deep frown, mirroring my own, no doubt.

"Mala hasn't paid me yet."

"Is that bad?"

"It's not usual. That's all I know." I pushed my hands through my hair, leaning my head back. "Fuck, this whole job has just been wrong from the beginning. Everything about it has just been wrong."

"Like what?"

"Like my bike breaking down the first night, like you not being the girl I was expecting at Juanita's, like Mala asking me to do a woman, to not leave a body, to stick around an extra day and bring him proof. And now he hasn't paid me yet."

"You're superstitious."

"I am?"

"You like your routines. When things don't happen the way you expect them to, you get upset."

"Wouldn't anyone?"

"Not necessarily."

I took a sip of my coffee, offering her the cup. She took a sip, watching me from under the plastic lid. "What are your instincts telling you right now?"

"That Mala didn't buy it. That I can't go back to Chicago. That we're both dead unless we find a way to disappear."

"How do we do that?"

I didn't answer her right away. I knew how to make myself disappear, but not her, and I didn't want to tell her that. I had a feeling that if I did, she'd insist I go on without her, and I couldn't do that. I needed to know she'd be safe. I rubbed my face and sighed. I also needed some rest, some time to think. "I don't know, Bella. I don't know."

She was silent a moment, too, looking around the food court while she thought. "Mala's going to expect that we've gone north."

"Of course we are."

"He'll be looking for us in Phoenix, Seattle, and Chicago. He'd never expect us to go south."

"Why would we?"

"I don't know, to buy time, to figure out what's going on, what we're going to do."

"How far south?"

"Mexico?"

"But that's where most of his people are."

"I know. That's why he'd never expect us to go there." She was thinking, frowning. "We could stick to the tourist areas, blend in maybe. Be vacationers or something."

Fuck, this girl was smart. "How are we going to get you over the border without ID?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. Sneak over somehow?"

"Too risky. If Mala's working with the police, then he's damn sure working with border patrol."

"We'd have to come up with a story then, some reason why I wouldn't have my ID."

I watched her concentrate. She took another sip of my coffee, keeping her hand on the cup and drumming her fingers on sides, her posture filled with the same restless energy she'd had back at Juanita's when we'd first started planning her escape.

"I wouldn't have my ID because ..." She paused, thinking, letting me fill in the blank if I had an idea.

"Because we left in a hurry."

"And we left in a hurry because …"

"We're running away together." Which we were.

"They won't let us through for that … but, what if we were getting married? Maybe they'd be sympathetic if we were eloping."

"Hold on." I did a quick Google search on my phone. "No, you need ID to get a marriage license in Mexico. That won't work."

"Shoot." She took another sip of my coffee. I guessed it was hers now, the thought making me smile a little. "What if we'd already gotten married?"

"And were trying to get into Mexico for our—"

"Honeymoon." We said the word together, appraising each other, both of us wondering if it would work.

"We just got married in Vegas."

"You promised me a honeymoon in Mexico."

"I'm giving my new bride anything she asks for." I looked at her coffee.

"It was my mother's dying wish that I'd honeymoon on the same beach she'd gone to with my father."

I laughed. "Too much."

"Yeah, too much." She laughed too, then looked a little sad.

"Hey." I nudged her under the table with my knee. "It might work."

"Yeah?"

"I can't think of anything better, can you?"

"No."

I reached for my phone and started making transfers to some of my dummy accounts. "I need an ATM, and then it looks like we've got a little more shopping to do."

She watched me, another slight frown forming between her brows. "I have some money." Her frown deepened. "There must be some way to access it."

I shook my head. "Not without showing you're alive.

"Well, if you keep track of what you spend, I'll pay you back somehow."

I smiled up at her as I finished. "Maybe I am superstitious because there's no way I'd take any money from you."

"Why not? Because I'm a woman? That's not superstition. That's chauvinism."

"It's chivalry," I corrected.

"Pride." She smiled back.

I gave her a slight nod. "And a lot of stubbornness."

"Now that I'll agree with." She sighed and crossed her arms, looking down at the shopping bags she'd put at her feet when she'd first rejoined me. "What else do we need to buy?"

"Rings."

"That's all?"

I looked at her shopping bags, too. "What do people bring on a honeymoon?"

"I don't know. I've never thought about it."

I smiled again and rose. "Well, start thinking. We've got to make this look authentic."

Getting the rings was easy enough. Bella told the jeweler we were eloping to Vegas and just needed something simple. She smiled at Bella and pulled out a tray of diamond solitaires, trying to get us to upgrade, but Bella was adamant that all she wanted was a band.

"If that's all he's wearing, that's all I'm wearing." She linked her arm through mine and smiled up at me.

"You're sure you don't want a diamond?" I asked her, playing along.

"No, I really don't. Really." She squeezed my arm for emphasis and then looked back down at the tray. "Oh, my god."

"Ah, you have good taste." The jeweler lifted off something incredibly sparkly and handed it to her.

"Can I?"

"Of course."

Bella slipped it on her finger and her eyes widened. "Wow. It's so beautiful." It really was. I had to agree with her.

"This is one of our nicest rings." She took Bella's hand and pointed to the stone in the center. "A single carat, offset with side baguettes. The band is platinum, and as you can see, has smaller diamonds all the way around. The total weight is over three carats, and we designed it ourselves. It's one of a kind."

"I didn't think I was a diamond kind of person, but maybe I was wrong," Bella said quietly, almost to herself. "How much is it?"

I kept silent as the jeweler glanced at me. "Seven thousand, but we do have a very flexible payment plan. Depending on your credit history, payments could be as low as fifty dollars a month."

"Okay. Thank you for showing it to me." She'd slipped it off as soon as the words 'seven thousand' were out of the jeweler's mouth. "But we're really just interested in plain bands."

"Can't blame me for trying. Here are our bands." She pulled out another tray, and fifteen minutes later, we were leaving the store with two of their least expensive plain gold rings.

We started walking back toward the food court, passing a lingerie shop. Bella stopped and looked at the ridiculous life-sized posters of women in bras and panties.

"Would I bring sexy underwear?"

"Don't ask me." What I meant was, don't ask me to go in there.

"Ugh, come on, Edward. Help me out here. I've eloped. I'm off on my honeymoon. Do I go in or don't I?"

"Yeah." I gave her a nudge with my elbow. "You do, but I don't. You're saving the surprise."

"Thanks a lot," she muttered sarcastically as she squared her shoulders and went in.

I sat in the atrium and pulled up Google maps on my phone. If we'd gotten married in Vegas, we'd head straight south, crossing at either Mexicali or San Luis, about ten hours away. I could probably make it in eight if I sped, but I didn't want to risk getting pulled over. When Bella returned with another shopping bag, I told her how long it was going to take and that we should eat lunch here. Once we were on the road, I wouldn't want to stop unless we had to.

She agreed and after we were done eating, she went into the restroom to change clothes. I watched her walk back to the table, taking in her tight jeans and fitted top. It turned out she did have some curves. Nice ones.

"What are you looking at? She asked me with a smile while she gathered up the bags she was throwing away.

"Nothing," I said innocently. "Ready to go?"

"Yep."

We walked out to the bike, Bella's new boots having enough heel that she was a little taller than I was used to. "Okay," I said as I helped her fit her helmet comfortably. "I'm going to try to get there in one push, but if you need to stop, just tap me."

"Okay."

I put her new clothes in the pannier and we got on. "Edward." She leaned over my shoulder just before I started the engine.

"What?"

"I know how to drive a motorcycle if you get tired and need a break."

I raised my eyebrows and shook my head. "I don't think so, but thanks for offering." I felt her chuckle as she wrapped her arms around me. "What's so funny?"

"I knew you'd say that," she smiled, her arms tightening into a hug. "Because you're so superstitious."

**A/N: Thanks to all of you who read and hopefully enjoyed the last chapter - and major thanks to my wonderful betas for getting another prepped so quickly! - kts**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7****

**"**And what brings you fine folks to Mexico tonight?" The border patrol guard was young and way too cheerful for this late hour. Bella and I had made good time, only stopping once for gas, but it was after nine by the time we'd reached Mexicali.****

**"**Just visiting."****

The guard looked over my bike and asked us to dismount. "Are you carrying in any fruits or vegetables?"****

**"**Nope."****

**"**Weapons?"****

**"**Of course not!" Bella sounded genuinely appalled at the suggestion that I might have a gun tucked into my sock, under my boot and jeans. She actually was a pretty good actress.****

**"**Mind if I look in here?" The guard tapped the pannier. I popped it open, and he made a cursory search of the contents. We'd deliberately put a bag of Bella's new things on top, lots of lacy underwear and a string bikini. Bella did an excellent job of looking mortified. The guard didn't search for very long.****

**"**Okay, you can close it." He sounded a little abashed. "Where you folks headed?"****

**"**My new bride wants to honeymoon on the beach." I smiled at Bella and put an arm around her shoulder. She stiffened a little but covered it by glancing at the guard, giving him a shy smile as if I was embarrassing her. "Right, sweetheart?"****

She nodded up at me. "I've never seen the ocean," she said quietly with the perfect note of wistfulness.****

I kissed the top of her head and let her go. I could see her visibly relax but luckily the guard was looking at me. "Congratulations. Newlyweds?"****

**"**Vegas." I winked at Bella, and God help me, she actually blushed. "We've been on the road ever since. I promised my baby a honeymoon in Mexico."****

The guard smiled. "Very romantic. I'll let you get on your way as soon as I check your IDs."****

I pulled out my wallet and handed him one of my fake driver's licenses. He took it, glanced quickly at my face for confirmation, and gave it back. "And yours?" He turned his attention to Bella.****

Bella reached for her back pocket, her expression changing to one of dismay. "Oh no. I forgot it."****

**"**You forgot it?"****

**"**I must have left it at the hotel." She turned to me. "I told you I needed more time to get ready. This is what happens when I'm rushed – I forget things." Her tone of voice had turned a little accusatory.****

**"**How could you forget your wallet?" I let a little exasperation creep into mine.****

**"**You were in such a rush! You gave me less than five minutes to pack!"****

**"**I wanted to get down here before dark. If it'd been up to you, we'd probably still be packing."****

She narrowed her eyes at me and put her hands on her hips. "So this is my fault?"****

I had to look down at the ground for a second to keep from laughing. "No. Come on, don't get mad at me." The way her eyes were flashing reminded me of the first night I'd met her. I'd hate to face her real wrath. "I'm sorry if I rushed you."****

Her fake anger relented, and she smiled, taking my hand. "That's okay. But what are we going to do? Go back and get it?"****

I shrugged. "I guess we'll have to, but we're going to lose a day. It might not be worthwhile to come back down here. We could just go to San Diego."****

**"**I don't want to go to California. That's where my dad was killed. I can't honeymoon there. I told you that." The accusing tone was back.****

I pulled her back a little but not far enough that the guard couldn't still hear us. He looked away, a little embarrassed to be witnessing what was supposedly our first argument. ****

**"**We just don't have that much time." I raised my eyebrows a little, wishing we'd planned this better. I didn't have a clue why we would be pressed for time.****

She crossed her arms and tilted her head. "You don't have to report for duty until the middle of the week. That gives us time, doesn't it?"****

_Ah, good thinking._I gave her a little smile of appreciation. "It would be a lot easier to just go to San Diego. That's where the Naval base is."****

She glanced at the guard and apparently decided to go all in. "My parents honeymooned in Mexico. After Dad died, Mom started drinking. All she ever talked about were the beaches in Mexico. She made me promise I'd honeymoon there too." Bella looked up at me and sniffled. "I promised her, Tony. I promised her."****

**"**I know you did, baby," I said sadly, hoping she wasn't overdoing it. ****

The guard cleared his throat, and we pretended to be surprised he was still there. "All right. I don't see any reason why you two can't cross."****

**"**Really? You'll let us through?" Bella sounded overjoyed.****

The guard nodded. "But it's going to be trickier getting back in. We're supposed to be checking passports now. You should get the hotel to overnight your wallet to you, and you," he turned to me, "you should be all right with your military ID. Navy, huh?"****

**"**Yep. My fourth deployment starts in a few days."****

**"**Well, then. I can understand why you're in a hurry to start your honeymoon." He winked at Bella and gestured for us get back on the bike. "You guys have a good time, but be careful. Stick to the tourist areas."****

**"**We will." I smiled at him knowingly as we got back on the bike. "Thanks, buddy." ****

A minute later we were in Mexico. ****

**"**That was easy!" Bella yelled into my ear.****

**"**I didn't even have to bribe him!" I yelled back. ****

I headed west toward the Baja Peninsula, and it wasn't long before I could sense that we'd left the desert behind us. The night was cooler, the air more fragrant, and even softer, if that was possible. Traffic thinned significantly the further we got from the border, and in the dark with our helmets on, we were completely unrecognizable. ****

I began to relax, and a few miles later, felt Bella rest her head against my back. I hadn't taken her up on her offer to drive, but she'd stayed alert the whole ride down here. She must finally be getting tired, I thought, as I reached down and gave one of her arms a little shake, trying to tell her not to fall asleep. She gave me a squeeze back, and I smiled, accelerating a few miles above the speed limit, wanting to get far enough from the border that I'd I feel it was safe to stop.****

One disadvantage of riding together was that we couldn't talk to each other without yelling, but on the plus side, it gave me a lot of time to think. I'd spent most of the time, between Albuquerque and the border, worrying that maybe this was a mistake. Not leaving with Bella – that didn't feel wrong to me. I liked her, and I would have felt like an asshole if I'd left her to fend for herself. From the moment she'd agreed to come to Chicago with me, I'd begun to feel responsible for her. Pretending to be married and on our honeymoon wasn't alleviating that feeling. If anything, it was just increasing. ****

Now here we were in Mexico – only because I couldn't think of a better idea on the way down here. The guard's instructions about the ID we'd need to get back in the states was already worrying me. This was like last night at the bottom of the ravine. It'd been easy getting in, but it was going to be a lot harder getting out. Although I had a fake passport I could use in lieu of a military ID, Bella didn't have anything, not even a fucking library card. ****

I felt Bella lift her head and prop her chin on my shoulder. I smiled, suspecting that she wasn't letting herself rest as long as I was doing all the driving. I let out a long sigh. Worrying at this point wasn't going to do any good. We'd made it over the border, and we'd find a way to get back – once we were rested and thinking clearly. That had been the whole reason to come down here, after all.****

At midnight, we rolled into Lorindo. We'd gotten three hours into Mexico, and it felt safe to stop. There was a restaurant still open on the main street, and I pulled into the parking lot, killing the engine. ****

Bella put her hands on my shoulders and groaned as she put her weight on me to lift herself off. "I don't know if I can stand up."**  
><strong>**  
><strong>**"**Yeah, it can take a while to get your legs back. Just stretch and walk slow at first." I tried not to watch as she took off her helmet and shook out her hair, arching her back and rubbing her neck. Instead, I knocked down the kickstand and eased myself off. "Hungry?"****

**"**Starving."****

I chuckled as I put away our helmets. "You're always starving."****

**"**Hey, I couldn't eat while I was at Juanita's. I'm making up for lost time."****

**"**Lucky me." I gave her a smile so she'd know I was kidding. We hadn't eaten since leaving Albuquerque, and she had every right to be starving. I knew I was. "Come on, let's get you some dinner." ****

I put my arm over her shoulder as we started for the door, giving her a light squeeze. She didn't flinch or pull away; instead, she looked up at me as we walked. I wasn't sure what to make of her expression, but she paused at the door. ****

**"**I'm nervous about going in."****

**"**No one's going to recognize you."****

**"**No, I mean, just pulling this off. Looking believable."****

I let go of her shoulder. Maybe I'd been making her uncomfortable. "Is that better?"****

She nodded and slipped her hand into my elbow. "I'm sorry."****

**"**Don't be. At all. Just relax and be yourself. I'll do the talking"****

After ordering a generous amount of food, I told the waiter we'd just eloped and were looking for a place to stay, but we wanted something local, not a big chain. Some place romantic. Bella looked down at the table, stealing a smile at me. The waiter nodded, seeming to understand most of what I'd said, then hollered something back to the cook. The two of them set into what sounded like a fierce argument, each championing their own cause in furious Spanish. The waiter apparently won.****

**"**You want to go to Alberto's."****

**"**Alberto's?"****

**"**Si, Alberto's. Only takes Americans. Very nice. Quiet." He smiled at Bella. "Very good for a honeymoon."****

She smiled shyly at him. "Is it easy to find?"****

**"**Si, si, señora." Bella once again enlisted help, getting directions to Alberto's hotel in slow but sure English. I had to admit I admired her method. ****

We were both so hungry that we didn't talk for at least fifteen minutes after being served. Bella was the one who thought to maintain our cover by reaching for my hand and giving it a squeeze, leaning in as if to whisper an endearment. "Mala must have the phone by now."****

I nodded and put my hand over hers, entwining our fingers. "Yep." ****

**"**What do you think?"****

**"**I think he should have paid me by now. I'll check when we get to the hotel."  
><strong><br>****"**Why can't you check here?"****

The restaurant was about half-full, and I'd begun to suspect the waiter was telling his other customers that we'd just eloped. Maybe I was getting paranoid in my fatigue, but it seemed like people were smiling at us. "That wouldn't be very romantic, would it? If I ignored you and got busy on my phone?"****

**"**No," she laughed, her smile reaching her eyes. "It wouldn't. Not at all."****

We followed the directions the waiter had insisted on giving us again before we left. Alberto's place looked like a normal house, the only giveaway a small neon sign near the driveway. I pulled in and cut the engine. "Wait here."****

**"**Okay."****

I wanted to check it out alone before committing to stay. The lobby was small, a modified living room not unlike Juanita's.****

**"**Hola?" I called out, no one visible.****

**"**I'm coming." I heard a voice from upstairs and a minute later a middle-aged man trotted downstairs. "How can I help you?"****

**"**I'd like a room, if you have one." Thank God we could do this in English. I was way too tired to try to fumble my way through in Spanish. I didn't even know the word for room. ****

**"**Very good. American?"****

**"**Yes."****

**"**Bueno." He pulled out his ledger. "How many nights?"  
><strong><br>****"**I don't know yet."****

**"**Si. One night is eighty dollars or a thousand pesos. You can pay either way.****

**"**Okay."****

**"**Okay. You fill this out." He pushed a registration card toward me. "Check out is at noon, or you can stay again, just let me know."****

**"**That's it?"****

**"**Si." He smiled up me.****

**"**Are you Alberto?" I returned his smile. ****

**"**Si."****

He was about a foot shorter than me, and looked surprisingly alert given the late hour. He was dressed in a suit and tie and wore his hair neatly slicked back. His appearance boded well for the state of his hotel. "You were recommended at the restaurant tonight."****

**"**That's nice, good to keep business local."****

**"**That's what I thought, too. I have a companion. Is that extra?" I was going to go with staying here and started filling out the card.****

**"**No, señor. No extra, but no putas. That's my only rule."****

**"**She's my wife."****

**"**Of course she is," he said without missing a beat, his smile returning. ****

I liked this guy. "I'll go get her then."****

**"**Si." He busied himself with a pegboard of keys while I went back outside to get Bella and our bag. ****

She got off the bike when she saw me coming and stretched, taking off her helmet and running her hands through her hair. "This place is okay?"****

**"**It's perfect."****

**"**Good. I'm exhausted."****

Suddenly I was too. We'd been on the road for almost twenty-four hours, and the realization that we could finally sleep was overwhelming. "Let's go in." I took her hand.****

Alberto gave us the key to our room and offered to carry our luggage, but we didn't have anything other than our bag. I told him we'd see him tomorrow and we headed upstairs.****

Our room was surprisingly nice, but all I could really see was the bed. Bella sat down on it, looking the bad kind of tired.****

**"**Go to sleep, Bella."****

**"**Are you going to?"****

**"**I just want to check my balance, then I will." I pulled out my phone and brought up my account. "Nothing."****

**"**Shit."****

**"**Yeah."****

**"**So he didn't buy it?"****

**"**I don't know. All I know is he hasn't paid me yet."****

**"**What else could it mean?"****

**"**Maybe he hasn't found the phone. Maybe it broke when I threw it over the gate." I was almost too tired to answer her and quickly stripped down to my underwear. I got under the covers and sank into the pillow.****

**"**What are we going to do?" Bella sounded scared.****

**"**Sleep."****

**"**And tomorrow?"****

**"**Honeymoon." I wasn't sure I even the finished the word before I let the blessed darkness take me under.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

I slept until almost ten the next morning, waking only because I needed to go to the bathroom. Once again Bella hadn't woken me during the night, but I'd been so exhausted I probably would have slept through an earthquake. Without thinking, I reached over to make sure she was next to me. Her side of the bed was empty, and I sat up, wondering where she'd gone. She wasn't in the room, but I could hear her. She was humming, in the bathroom. I sank back down and gave her a few more minutes, but she didn't seem to be coming out.

"Bella?" I knocked lightly on the door. "Are you going to be in there much longer?" I heard water sloshing.

"Yes. Forever, probably. Just come in if you have to. I don't care."

I smiled and weighed whether to take her up on her offer. The idea of catching a glimpse of her in the bathtub was certainly appealing, but I really didn't want to use the toilet while she was in there.

"Seriously, Edward. I'll close my eyes and plug my ears if you want, but I'm not getting out for a long time. A really long time."

"How dirty can you be?"

"It's not about being dirty, it's about soaking."

"Soaking?" I'd noticed more than once yesterday that although she seemed comfortable touching me, she stiffened whenever I touched her. I'd written it off as her not knowing me, but now it occurred to me that maybe something had happened to her at Juanita's, something she hadn't wanted to tell me. Something that required soaking.

"Yep." Her voice was determined. I sighed and quickly dressed, gathering up my wallet and keys. I'd go get us some coffee and find a restroom.

Alberto was at the front desk when I reached the ground floor and he gave me a nod and a smile. "Buenos dias, Senor Masen."

"Buenos dias. Is there a coffee shop nearby, like a Starbucks or something?"

"There's one in town, but you don't have to go anywhere for coffee." He gestured over to a pot that was set up near some pastries. "You get a complimentary breakfast with your room."

"Great, but I also need a restroom."

"Is something wrong with your bathroom? Do I need to check it?" He looked apologetic and started getting off his stool.

"No, no, it's fine. It's my wife. She's been in the tub since I woke up."

"Ah." He sat back down and smiled at me. "There's a restroom you can use right around that corner." He pointed to a hallway near the coffee pot. I went and did my business, looking at my reflection in the mirror as I washed my hands. I could use some cleaning up, too, especially a shave. I wondered when I'd get a chance to use the bathroom I was actually paying for.

I returned to the lobby and fixed two cups of coffee and a small plate of pastries. "It's okay to take these upstairs?"

"Si. Of course."

"Gracias. See you later."

Alberto just nodded, and I headed back to our room.

I balanced the plate on top of the cups while I fished out my key. Letting myself back in the room, I saw the bathroom door was still closed. "I brought you a coffee," I called out to Bella.

"That was fast."

"There was some in the lobby. Do you want me to bring it in to you?"

"Would you?"

"Just a second." I put down one of the mugs but didn't see anything I could put a pastry on. I decided to bring them both in and take one as I was leaving. "Are you decent?" I started opening the door, keeping my eyes on the floor.

"Define decent."

I peeked up. Only Bella's head and arms were visible from under the mountain of suds she'd created for herself. She smiled at me and her eyes widened as I put her mug and the plate on the edge of the tub.

"You brought me two, wasn't that sweet. I'm starving." She smirked.

"Um, yeah. Enjoy." I started backing out, watching her take a bite.

"Thanks, Edward. I promise I won't be too much longer." She raised her mug to me and took a sip as I left, closing the door behind me.

An hour later, she finally came out, wrapped in a robe with her hair up in a towel. "Sorry I was in there so long." She smiled at me apologetically and went over to our bag.

"Don't worry about it. Take all the baths you want."

"Anything?"

I was online on my phone. "Nope."

She sighed, and I heard her digging through what must have been the bag of lingerie. Whatever she picked out was small enough to hide in her fist, which she kept closed while she picked her new jeans and shirt off the chair. "I hate to say it, but eventually I'm going to need some more clothes, something for this weather."

"I know. We'll get you some this afternoon."

"Are we staying here another night?"

"I don't see why not. It's nice, private. Alberto minds his own business. I'm not sure there's any advantage to going further south, and it might even be a disadvantage if we have to get back to the states in a hurry. Why, do you mind if we stay?"

"No, not at all. Just asking." She moved back into the bathroom to get dressed.

When she came back in, I stood and slipped on my jacket.

"Where are you going?"

"_We_ are going to get something to eat, do a little sightseeing, then buy you some more clothes. Come on, wifey."

"Wifey," she muttered under her breath, but she was smiling as she grabbed her jacket.

We wandered down the main street for a while, stopping at a street vendor to get some tacos, eating as we continued walking. Lorindo was a pretty good sized town, but there weren't a ton of tourists. I noticed the ones we saw seemed older, too, like younger people went elsewhere – probably to the beaches.

Bella stopped to look in a window full of women's clothing. Without asking, I held the door open for her and gestured for her to go in. She gave me a little curtsy and before long had a bundle of clothes over her arm as she headed to the dressing room. I waited outside the curtain.

"Edward, this doesn't—"

"Tony."

"Tony. Ugh, why is that so hard to remember? Tony, this doesn't fit. Can you bring me something smaller?"

"Let me see it first."

Bella came out and did a spin in the skirt she was trying on. It was way too big on her and not at all flattering, but maybe that was good. "I think you should get it."

"It makes my hips look enormous."

"Exactly."

"Oh." She made a knowing face. "I get it. Very clever. Okay, I don't care." She went back in the dressing room. "So I should be getting things that make me look bigger?"

"Yeah, might as well."

"Then you're going to love this next one."

She came out wearing a poncho or maybe it was a vest. I didn't know. She had it on over pants that were so big the crotch was almost to her knees. "This is definitely me."

I laughed and rubbed my jaw. "It is?"

"Oh yeah, totally what I kick back in. Nothing beats a good poncho."

"You look like an old lady."

"That's what I should do, dye my hair gray." She was checking herself out in the mirror, striking poses.

"Do they even make gray hair dye?" I thought the idea was to cover the gray.

"Who knows? But I'll do it if you will."

"Me? No way."

"You've got just as much reason as I do." She raised her eyebrow at me.

"True."

She pulled her hair back and made it into a pony tail with her hand. "Do you think I should cut my hair, or dye it blond or something?"

"No, actually. Your coloring blends in well down here. Blond would make you stand out more. I wouldn't worry about it."

"What about you? What could you do?" She was talking mostly to herself, looking me up and down with her hands on her hips.

"Maybe I'll grow a beard." I rubbed my jaw again.

She frowned at me as she went back into the dressing room.

"What?"

"I only married you for your jawline, Tony."

I laughed again. I liked this well-rested Bella.

We went up to pay for Bella's new clothes a few minutes later, but the cashier balked at taking my dollars. I asked her if there was anywhere close by to exchange for pesos, but she shook her head. "It's Sunday, senor. The exchanges aren't open today."

"So we can't buy these?"

"I'm sorry. I can hold everything for you. You can come back tomorrow."

I glanced down at Bella to see what she wanted to do, but she had an odd look on her face like she was thinking about something else. "Hon?"

"Hmm?"

"Should we have them hold these for us until tomorrow?"

"Today's Sunday."

I had no idea what she was talking about. "Yes, it is."

"Yesterday was Saturday."

I glanced at the cashier, hoping Bella wasn't coming across as an imbecile, because she kind of was.

"Yes, and the day before that was Friday. But what I want to know is whether or not we should hold these clothes until tomorrow." I smiled at her like we were sharing a joke, hoping we were.

"So that thing we were trying to do yesterday, you remember that thing?" She hooked her arm in mine and leaned into me. "Maybe it didn't work because of the weekend."

Holy shit. This girl was too smart for her own good. I looked at her in awe while I quickly scanned my memory. Had I ever done any jobs for Mala that meant getting paid on a weekend? I couldn't remember. But shouldn't the banks being doing transfers anyway? It was all electronic, pre-programmed, and the computers didn't care what day it was. But it was something; it was definitely something.

"Yeah, you could be right."

"We'll find out tomorrow."

"I guess we will."

"And then we'll come back and get these." She turned to the cashier. "You don't mind holding them for a day?"

"No, of course not. But I have to say most of these look way too big for you."

She squeezed my arm and gave the cashier a huge grin. "We're already expecting."

We spent the rest of the afternoon sightseeing, or at least Bella did. I used the time to familiarize myself with the layout of the town, trying to get a feel for whether it was safe for us to stay much longer. The afternoon wasn't bringing out any more tourists; either business was down because of the drug wars or the season just in a lull. Plus the shopkeepers were greeting us too enthusiastically, too individually, one even asking Bella how we'd met. After that we stuck to window-shopping, but even that revealed something else about the town that made me think we should leave.

"That's kind of cute."

"Hm?"

"That purse. I need something to put money in when I finally get those clothes. The skirts didn't have pockets."

I'd been standing behind Bella while she'd stopped in front of a leather-goods shop. I took my eyes off the sparse traffic and peered over her shoulder. "You can go in and look at it if you want. I'll wait out here."

"Okay. I'll just be a minute."

"Take your time." I leaned against the side of the building, trying to figure out what was bothering me about the cars slowly making their way up and down the main street. It wasn't that they were going too slow, or that I had any sense any of them were circling and watching us, it was that they were … cars. There weren't any other motorcycles. If Bella and I stayed here much longer, we'd become the young couple on their honeymoon with the motorcycle, easily describable to anyone who asked. In fact, if Mala was looking for me, my bike was the easily the most identifiable thing about me.

"I bought it. I hope that's okay." Bella rejoined me on the sidewalk with a hopeful smile.

"Of course."

"Is something wrong? I can take it back."

I realized I was still frowning at the cars passing by. I gave her a little smile and shook my head. "I think I should get rid of my bike."

"No. I like your bike. Why should you get rid of it?"

"It sticks out too much. It makes us too recognizable."

We started meandering down the sidewalk again and Bella looked up at me with a frown. "Hey, let's not worry about it now. There's nothing we can do about it today, anyway."

"I don't want you to have to give up your bike. This is all my fault."

"No, it isn't." I gave it some more thought. "Well, yeah, it is."

"What?"

"For being female. As soon as I knew I couldn't do the job, I should have realized I couldn't keep my bike."

"You wouldn't have been offered the job at all if I'd found a way to escape. Or if I'd cooperated with Mala."

"Jesus, Bella, don't say that. Don't ever say that. This would have happened eventually, anyway."

"How so? And don't use my name."

"Did I?"

She nodded up at me, her smile returning. "It's Priscilla now, remember?"

"You had to pick Priscilla."

"Yep. Priscilla of the Desert, that's me."

"I can see you now, riding off into the sunset with your gray hair and poncho."

She laughed and took my arm, keeping her hand tucked inside my elbow while we walked. "Riding on what, though? That's the question."

"Not my bike, sadly."

"Why would you have had to get rid of it eventually anyway?"

"Mala wanted me start working exclusively for him, go on his payroll. I didn't want to do that, and that would have made me one of his loose ends. I could have stalled for a while, but probably not for very long." We walked another half a block or so. "He even wanted me to move closer, uproot my life in Chicago."

She was silent for a couple of minutes. "Do you have a real job?"

"I'm a musician."

"Really? What instrument?"

"Guitar, mostly."

"Are people going to be looking for you? Family or a girlfriend?" She looked into a shop window.

"No. Some of the guys I work with will probably wonder where I am, but I have a reputation for leaving suddenly and being gone for a while." I thought about my apartment and what would happen at the end of the month when I didn't pay the rent. Then I thought about my guitars. "I suppose eventually people will realize I'm not coming back."

"You don't think you'll ever go back?"

"Not to live, but maybe I can think of a way to get my guitars."

She squeezed my arm lightly. "Now I feel doubly bad. First your bike, now your instruments."

"I told you, Be-Priscilla, it's not your fault. This day was going to come, one way or another."

"Still, if it weren't for me, you'd have had time to plan it better, make sure you had enough money, your guitars, a way to keep your bike, a place to go." She sighed and looked down at her boots for a couple of steps. "Instead, you have to pay for my clothes, my food, get a bigger hotel room than if you were traveling alone. I'm just making it harder for you to disappear. You should leave me here and get away on your own."

I'd been right about her thinking about my safety first. For some reason it made me smile. "And what would you do if I left you here?"

She blew out a breath, thinking. "I'd hitchhike to Phoenix, go to the police, hope for the best."

I stopped walking and turned to her, lifting her sunglasses off her nose so I could see her eyes, which were sad and worried. "Exactly, and that's exactly what you shouldn't do. That's why I'm not going to leave you here. We're in this together. Hell, I need you as much as you need me."

"You do?"

"Yeah." I shrugged. "You're smart. You catch stuff I miss, like this bank thing. You're a good actress and quick on your feet – you're the one who got us across the border when you came up with that Navy thing. And you're good with people. People like you and want to help you. I don't get that reaction so much."

"Not so much?" Her smile was back, and she was teasing me a little.

I shook my head, thinking again how pretty she was when she smiled. "So, partners?"

"Partners." She put her hand out for us to shake on it.

I just couldn't get my mouth around the name Priscilla during dinner, and shortened it to Silla, then Silly, probably helped along by the beer. Bella was very, very silly with a little alcohol in her, and it felt good to let my guard down, relax, and really enjoy myself. It'd been a long time since I'd had this much fun with someone, male or female. It occurred to me more than once that if it weren't for the fact we weren't touching each other very much, we probably looked exactly like any normal honeymooning couple. We didn't have to pretend that we liked each other's company, at least I didn't. I knew Bella was a good actress, but I didn't think she was pretending either. I hoped not, anyway.

We got back to our hotel around ten. The lobby was empty, Alberto probably upstairs at this hour unless he got a new customer. When we got to our room, a certain awkwardness came over me as I realized this was the first night we weren't exhausted from traveling. Bella didn't quite seem to know what to do with herself at first, either. She looked around the room with her hands in her back pockets, then went over to our bag and sifted through it while I went to use the bathroom. I really could have used a shower, but I wondered if it would freak her out if I came to bed all fresh and clean as if I were hoping for something to happen. I decided to wait until morning.

She used the bathroom while I undressed and got into bed, grabbing the television remote off the dresser and flicking on the TV while I got comfortable. After a few minutes, Bella came back and slipped into her side of the bed. I didn't look at her directly but couldn't help but notice in my peripheral vision that all she had on was a nightshirt, her legs bare. I focused on the television, changing the channel a couple times.

"Is this okay?" I asked as I changed the channel again.

"Yeah, I don't mind." She propped her pillow up behind her and watched with me. I stopped on a local station showing a weather report, and although I couldn't understand what the ferociously smiling weather lady was saying, the radar was self-explanatory. A big storm was swirling in the Pacific, headed straight for central Baja. "Maybe we should go down to Cabo."

"Because of the storm?"

"That and I think we stick out too much here. Not enough tourists, not enough motorcycles."

"That's too bad. I like it here, and I like storms. But if you think we should go to Cabo, then we should go."

I sank back a little into my pillow and glanced over at her. Her hair was tucked behind her ears, and I realized I hadn't noticed when she'd stopped hiding her face from me. "I don't have to make all the decisions for us. We're partners."

She smiled, her eyes still on the TV. "So maybe if the deposit comes through tomorrow, and we don't use your bike more than we have to, we could stay?"

"Maybe."

"Okay. Good night, Edward." She reached to turn off her bedside light, then curled up on her side away from me.

I turned off the TV and lay on my back, looking at the night sky through the balcony door, trying to focus my thoughts on what we had to do tomorrow instead of the beautiful, half-naked woman next to me.

The stars were out along with a sliver of moon low on the horizon. I watched its course across the doorway for a long time, the only sound in the room Bella's low breathing. I had to figure out a way to get her back to the states, and do it in a way that would always keep her safe from Mala. The only problem was, I had absolutely no fucking idea how.


	9. Chapter 9

Bella woke me only once that night when she rolled toward me and curled her hand around my arm like she had the night before. I smiled in the dark, inordinately pleased that even in her sleep, she didn't mind touching me. I covered her hand lightly with mine, traced my thumb over her ring, and was back asleep within minutes.

She was already in the bathtub when I awoke again at nine. I didn't waste any time waiting for her to get out, but instead, quickly dressed and went downstairs. Alberto nodded at me, and I gave him a helpless shrug as I made my way to his public restroom. When I was done, I made our coffees and was piling four pastries on two stacked plates when Alberto cleared his throat.

Señor Masen." He gestured for me to come to his desk, and then leaned forward. "You and Señora are newly married, si?"

I frowned a little, puzzled that he knew our story when we hadn't said anything to him. Were people in town gossiping about us? Were we that conspicuous?

How did you know?" I kept my voice neutral.

"Oh," he waved his hand. "I've been in this business for a long time. When a woman as lovely as Señora comes to Mexico without luggage, it usually means one thing. Eloping, si?"

"Si. We got married in Las Vegas a few days ago."

"Si," he nodded. "So. You need to shave."

"Excuse me?"

"This." He pointed to my chin. "Your new wife doesn't want to tell you, but she needs a bath in the morning because this hurts, mi amigo. Very delicate skin the señoras have, very sensitive. Everywhere." He winked at me. "You shave it off, you get to use your own bathroom in the morning."

"Got it." I smiled back at him. "She tried to give me a hint yesterday, but I was too slow, I guess. Gracias, Alberto."

"De nada." He went back to his newspaper. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"I will." I was still chuckling as I eased the bathroom door open, knocking once to let Bella know I was on my in.

"What's so funny?"

"Alberto. He thinks you're bathing every morning because my beard is irritating your skin. Everywhere." I raised my eyebrows at her as I set down her breakfast.

"He'd be right. If we were having sex, this"— she sat up a little and lifted a hand to run her fingers up through my scruff, bringing them back down along my jaw—"would hurt like hell. I'd let you grow a beard eventually if you really wanted to, but not on our honeymoon." She smiled, looking a little embarrassed, dropping her hand and sinking back into the water.

"That's very considerate of you."

She acknowledged my appreciation with another smile. "You can shave now if you want. I don't mind."

"You don't?"

"Nope, not at all. I have an idea I want to talk to you about, anyway."

"Okay, if you're sure you don't mind." She shook her head, and I went to get my coffee and razor. I tried not to sneak glimpses of her while I lathered up, but I could see her perfectly in the mirror. Well, I could see her head, one of her arms and one of her knees. I forced myself to look away. "So, you'd rather I shave than try to disguise myself with a beard?"

"Hm-hmm." Her answer quick but quiet, and I stole a glance at her. Her eyes were on me but not my reflection. She seemed to be looking at my back. "What's the idea you want to talk about?"

She sat up a little as if she was regaining her thoughts. "Well, I was thinking this morning that you don't want to stay in this town, but I kind of do, so I came up with a compromise. It's just an idea, and it might depend on whether or not the deposit comes through, but I was thinking we could take a day trip, like to the beach, where there are more tourists. That would get us out of town to somewhere we'd blend in better, but we could come back here at night. Would that work?"

I watched her lift her leg out of the water and run a sponge down her shin. "Um, yeah, I guess."

"We don't have to. It's just an idea."

"No." I took some swipes with my razor. "It's a good idea. I don't really know if going to Cabo is the right thing to do. If we're spotted there, there's no quick way back to the States."

"We could fly back."

"Not without passports."

"Hire a boat?"

I shook my head. "No boats."

She looked up at me over the rim of her coffee cup. "Why not?"

"Because they're stupid."

She laughed and leaned her head back, her shoulders coming out of the bubbles. "Okay, that's fair. No boats."

I went back to shaving, taking my time, enjoying the view. I'd had girlfriends over the years, but I'd never lived with any of them, had never felt this same easy domesticity that I did with Bella. Hell, I'd start shaving every morning as long as she was soaking in the tub.

"You know, Edward, you shouldn't have to feel like you have to make all the decisions. That's a lot to carry. If you're not sure about something, like going to Cabo, just ask me if it's a good idea or not and I'll tell you my honest opinion. And I'll do the same. Okay, partner?"

I stopped mid-stroke and looked at her again. She still had her head back, but her eyes were closed. When I didn't answer right away, she opened them and smiled at me. Was it a good idea to tell her how beautiful I thought she was? No, probably not. She'd just escaped from one man who'd tried to coerce her into his bed. She didn't need to start getting that from me.

"Okay, partner." I smiled back at her.

"Okay."

Three hours later, we crested the small rise that led to the beach, and I pulled over, turning off the ignition. "So, is it a good idea to stop here?"

"I think so. Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, that's a hotel right there, so those beaches might be private and there are more people. We could head in that direction" — I pointed north — "and find a place that's less crowded, but I wouldn't be able to watch the road as well."

"You'll be watching the road?"

"I'll be uneasy if I can't see what's heading toward us."

"The hotel beach, then. If we don't like it, we can move on."

I smiled to myself as I started the bike back up. I was used to making all my own decisions, but it was easy to do this partner thing with Bella. When the deposit still hadn't shown up after I'd showered and dressed, I'd decided that settled it. Mala hadn't fallen for the photos, he knew Bella was still alive, and by now he very likely knew I wasn't returning to Chicago.

"I don't think he bought it, Bella."

"We don't know that for sure yet."

"I knew this was a mistake." My stomach felt like a knot.

"What?"

"Coming down here. We're trapped and on his turf."

"We're not trapped, Edward. We're both smart, and we'll come up with something. He won't guess that we've come down here, or that we're even still together for that matter. He's probably wasting time looking for us separately, if he's looking for us at all."

She was right. I knew it as soon as the words were out of her mouth, and I felt some of my tension ease. I looked at her, willing her to say something else reassuring.

"What time is it in Chicago?"

I'd had to check my phone. Ten, I'd told her. She answered that the banks had only been open for an hour, that I needed to give it some time. She told me to relax, and I did. I actually did.

We'd run our errands, getting pesos and picking up her clothes, returning most of them to our room where Bella took some into the bathroom to change. We'd asked Alberto on our way out if he had any suggestions about beach day trips. He gave my chin an approving nod, and then he and Bella spent a good ten minutes with their heads bent together over a map while he showed her several options. He liked her, too. I could tell.

His directions had led us here. I eased my bike down the beach access road and parked in the lot. There were other motorcycles; that was good. I even saw another Ducati, much better.

Bella grabbed our bag out of the pannier, and we made our way to the edge of the beach, close enough to look like tourists, but not close enough to invite people to interact with us. I helped Bella spread out the blanket we'd bought that morning and tried not to watch as she took off her over-sized sundress.

Fuck, it was the string bikini. Was she trying to kill me? I couldn't believe my first impression had been that she wasn't my type. She was so my type. Long slim legs, a tiny waist, but still an ass you could hold on to, small in the chest, but I didn't care about that – as long as they were real, I didn't care at all, and Bella's breasts were definitely real. I could tell by the way she barely filled the bikini, but had enough soft curve swelling over the cups for a man to want to bury his face in them. Me. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She caught me ogling her. "Should I put my dress back on?"

"Why would you do that?"

"To look bigger."

"No, you're fine." Damn fine. I shucked off my jeans and t-shirt, leaving me in the swim trunks I'd picked up at the shop holding Bella's clothes and laid down quickly on my stomach, closing my eyes. I felt her lay down next to me, and we both let out sighs. I knew what mine was about but had no idea what she was thinking. We were silent for a long time, letting the sun relax us.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Do you go to a lot of brothels? Is that something you do?" I looked at her over my forearm. Her eyes were on the sky.

"No, not really. Juanita's is the only one I stop at."

"How often do you stop there?"

"Once a year, sometimes twice."

"And you have sex with the girls there when you do?"

"Not every time, but yeah, usually."

"I think it's a good idea if you don't do that any more. None of them want to be there." She turned her head to look at me, her beautiful eyes showing nothing but empathy.

Of course they didn't. What had I been thinking all these years? That just because I was nice to them, that somehow made it okay? "Okay."

"Okay." She looked back up at the sky.

An hour later, we'd switched positions. I was on my back and Bella on her stomach. A seagull landed near our blanket to see if we had any food. "Just keep moving," Bella muttered, flicking a harmless amount of sand in its direction.. I glanced over at her and noticed her skin was turning pink.

"You need some sunscreen."

"Oh, I forgot." She turned over and reached for our bag. "The sun just felt so good." She pulled out the bottle and did her legs, arms, face, and stomach, then handed me the bottle. "Can you do my back?"

I took it from her and squirted out a quarter-sized dollop while she laid back down. "It's okay if I touch you?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"You kind of flinch away every time I do, that's all."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm trying to work on it."

I'd never really noticed a girl's back before, but Bella's was pretty. I kept my touch light as I ran my fingers over her shoulder blades. "So, the whole time you were at Juanita's, no one ever forced you to do anything? I mean, you weren't assaulted? By anyone?"

"No, I told you that. Why?"

"I just thought, the way you didn't like to be touched, maybe that was why." I was familiarizing myself with the delicate structure of her spine.

"I swear, Edward - Tony! Tony!" She made a fist and hit the blanket. "I'm sorry, I'm trying, but you are just not a Tony. Why did you pick that name?"

"My middle name's Anthony."

"Anthony. I like that better. I swear, Anthony, I don't know why I flinch. Maybe it's because of the times Mala touched me, or the nights I was worried I was going to have to go to a customer. Maybe it's just because I'm not used to being touched."

"You're not?" I was working my way to the skin below the tie of her bikini top, trying to keep my eyes off the swell of her rear end and failing miserably.

"Not really, but that feels good." She nestled her head into her arm, her face toward me, her eyes closed.

I rested my hand on the sweet dip of her lower back, just enjoying it. "So this is okay?"

"Hm-hmm." She nodded and smiled. Impulsively, I reached over and kissed her cheek.

She opened her eyes. "What was that for?"

"Just relieved, I guess, that nothing happened to you at Juanita's." I took my hand off her and went back to my side of the blanket, closing my eyes and relaxing again. I could heard the people cavorting in the water, the calls of seagulls, the steady pulse of the surf. This was nice.

After a few minutes, I felt Bella's fingers on my chin, tracing lightly along my freshly shaved jaw. She didn't say anything, and neither did I. I reached up for her hand and laced my fingers into hers, putting our hands back down together on the blanket between us. Then I fell asleep.

I had no idea how long I was out. When I finally awoke, I instinctively reached over for Bella, but I was alone on the blanket. I sat up and looked around, getting my bearings. The sun wasn't much lower in the sky, so I hadn't slept for too long, but I was mad at myself for dozing off. So much for the great watcher of roads, the great protector of women. I didn't even know where Bella was. I shielded my eyes with my hand and scanned the beach. Finally, I saw her down by the water, talking to an older woman. A dog ran up to them and it jumped up on Bella. She caught its paws, and I heard her laugh.

I smiled and rolled over onto my stomach, reaching for my phone. I couldn't see the display in the sunlight, so I pulled my t-shirt over my head like a towel and punched in the numbers. Holy fuck, it was there. I'd gotten the deposit. My account showed it came in at eleven Chicago time and that transfers were made automatically to my other accounts. I checked them just to make sure. They were all good, all glowing with new money. I scrambled to my feet and hollered to Bella. She turned to me and I waved, holding the phone up, gesturing for her to come back. She said something to the woman she was talking to and patted the dog again, then hurried back to me.

"I got it." I held up the phone, not having to say anything else. She let out a little scream and threw her arms around me. I didn't think twice about hugging her back, even lifting her off her feet.

"You got it. It worked." She squeezed me as tightly as she could, which was actually pretty damn tight but fine with me. "Oh my god, Edward," she whispered into my neck. "It worked."

I felt her start trembling a little, and I put her down, keeping my arms around her. She was trying not to cry.

"Shh, it's okay." I pulled her closer. She let out a sob, and I ran my hand over her hair, trying to calm her down. "It's okay."

"I know it's okay. It's more than okay." She laughed and sniffled at the same time, bringing a hand up to wipe her face and leaving it on my chest. "I was just so worried." She leaned against me, letting me support most of her weight while she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, pulling herself back together.

I didn't say anything while she recovered, my mind already thinking ahead to what we had to do next. She looked up at me while I was puzzling the first step, how to get her back into the states without ID.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just thinking."

"Well, stop it." She took my hand and pulled me down on the blanket. I realized for the first time that she was wet from swimming in the ocean, and I handed her my t-shirt. She used it to dry off her shoulders as she looked out over the waves. "Now I feel relieved. I just can't get over it."

"I didn't know you were that worried. You seemed so calm this morning."

"Well, we can't both be panicking at the same time, can we?"

"No," I chuckled. "That wouldn't be good."

"So this proves it, right? There's no reason Mala would pay you if he didn't think you'd done the job, would he?"

"I don't know." I lay down on my back. "I'm pretty sure this means he fell for it, but there's this little niggling worry about what took him so long. If he didn't fall for it, maybe he paid me so that I'd think he did and would lower my guard. Maybe he thinks he can trace me through the money. Maybe he can trace me through the money." I was relieved, too, and didn't mind sharing my thoughts.

Bella leaned over me and rubbed the spot between my eyebrows, then put her hand on mine, running one of her fingers over my ring. Had she noticed me do that last night? "You're going to drive yourself crazy trying to figure it out."

"I already am."

"So don't. Let's give ourselves a little vacation, a real one. We deserve it."

"What do you mean?"

"As far as we know, the first part of our plan worked. Mala bought that you killed me." She tilted her head up to look at me. "So let's take a couple of days to relax, get rid of some stress. Not worry about the next step just yet. Okay?"

I thought about it. Was there any reason to rush? We'd be more likely to make a mistake if we hurried a plan together, and we'd be thinking clearer if we were well-rested and recovered from our frantic escape to Mexico. I curled my arm around her shoulder and pulled her down. She didn't flinch. "Okay."

I must have been more tired than I realized because I soon found myself dozing off again. Bella rested her head on my shoulder and eventually I felt her kiss my neck, then my cheek. I was dreaming, I knew it, but I didn't let myself wake up because it felt so good, although her mouth was oddly cold. She kissed my lips and then started licking my face. I opened my eyes at that and found myself underneath a monster. I jumped and started to scramble away in the same second that the old woman Bella'd been talking to down at the water lurched into view.

"August! Bad dog! August, stop that!"

The monster was panting over Bella now, but she was awake and enjoying it, laughing while she reached up to hold the dog's head still, twisting away from its enormous tongue.

"I'm so sorry, Priscilla. He saw you again and ran right over here."

"It's okay, Harold. I don't mind."

Harold? I took another look. Harold was maybe seventy or eighty years old but still had that kind of wiry musculature some men are lucky to carry into their old age. He was deeply tanned and had short-cropped white hair. He was also wearing a dress.

"Harold, this is my husband Anthony. Anthony, this is Harold." Bella had sat up and had an arm around the dog. "And this is August. Isn't he great?" As if he'd understood her, August eagerly started in on Bella's face again, making her laugh and giving me an excuse not to answer.

Instead I stood up and offered Harold my hand. "Nice to meet you."

"You're not an Anthony." Harold took my hand and shook it vigorously, looking me carefully in the eye.

"Pardon me?"

"No offense to your parents, but that name doesn't suit you at all." I heard Bella snicker.

"You can call me Tony if it makes you feel better."

"That's even worse." Bella snickered again, and I shrugged, smiling too, not sure what to say.

"You're a luckier man in brides than names." He smiled at Bella, who'd gotten August to lay down on the blanket in my spot. The dog was only too happy to roll over for a stomach-rub while Bella fawned all over him.

"No argument there."

"So, Priscilla tells me you're honeymooning?"

"Yep."

"Wonderful place for a honeymoon, Mexico. At least it was, back when Mattie and I had ours."

"And when was that?" I did my best impersonation of a nice young man.

"1965, almost fifty years ago. We came to this exact beach." He looked around. "It was better then. No hotel, just these little shacks you'd rent. More romantic."

"So is Mattie here with you now?"

"Oh no, she's dead. Who gets breast cancer when they're 77, anyway? My Madeline, that's who. Always had to be different."

"Oh, Harold, I'm so sorry." Bella looked up from August with genuine remorse.

"Don't be sorry. We had a good life together. I sometimes even forget she's gone." He looked down at his dress. "Turns out her clothes are way more comfortable than mine in this weather, though. The first time I put on one of her dresses I couldn't believe it, all the years I'd suffered in trousers. And wearing them makes me feel like she's still on the beach with me. Is that weird?"

Bella and I exchanged glances, each of us wondering what to say. "It's a little weird." Bella finally offered with a nod.

"Yes," he said proudly. "That's why I do it. Keeps the riffraff away."

"Well, Harold" — I gestured toward Bella to start packing up — "it was nice to meet you, but we have a long ride back to our hotel."

Bella stood and shook the sand out of her dress while I gathered up my t-shirt and jeans.

"You're not staying at the Grande?" Harold gestured over his shoulder.

"No, we have a place inland."

"Inland? But you have stay at the beach on your honeymoon, you have to walk on the sand at night under the stars." He seemed amazed that we didn't know this.

"That does sound nice," Bella said politely as she pulled on her dress.

"It does, Harold, but like I said, we have a place."

"So, you call them."

"And tell them what?"

"That you're staying with me and to hold your room until you get back."

"No, come on, there's no way we could impose on you like that." I put on my t-shirt and shook out my jeans.

"Who's imposing? I have a big house. Mattie and I built it for our retirement, but now it's just me and August." He looked down at his dog, who'd followed Bella over to our bag, where she was packing the blanket and sunscreen. "August doesn't like a lot of people, and I like even fewer. But I like you two, and if you want a nice private place to stay for a night or two, I'm happy to have the company."

Bella and I looked at each other again. "Do you think it's a good idea?" I asked her.

Bella bent down to pet August. When she stood back up, she was smiling. "Yes. I think it's a good idea."

**A/N: I'm_ so_ sorry for the delay on this chapter. My husband broke both of his legs skiing on Easter - that's a good reason, right? And I'm having communication problems with one of my betas - another good reason, surely. Ideally, I'd be posting every week - and I'm thinking right now that maybe I will. I need the distraction ... I am not a nurse. Not at all.**

**A huge t****hank you to everyone who's reading, alerting and reviewing!**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

We followed Harold's old Buick for about a mile north of the beach hotel. His house was private, out of sight from the road. When we pulled into the driveway, he signaled for me to park next to him in the garage. He hit a button in his car that closed the garage door and then got out.

"You can have the guest room. It's right through here." He led us into a spacious living room and down a hallway, opening a door toward the end. "This was supposed to be for our son and his wife, but they won't visit us. Me, they won't visit me."

**"**Why not?" Bella asked.

**"**The drug wars. Thomas thinks everyone down here is in a cartel. It's the American media, I suppose. I don't think there's ever even been a shooting in this neighborhood, but try telling him that." The room was a good size with a smaller bed than we had back at the hotel, and no bathroom, but homier.

"This is really nice, Harold," Bella said as I put our bag on the bed. "You're sure we aren't imposing?"

**"**Oh, I'm sure. What good is a guest room without guests? Now, let me show you the rest of the house." He gave us the grand tour, pointing out all the clever design features for seniors, the touches his wife had added, even the system he'd created for catching rainwater.

**"**Okay, I want you two to make yourselves completely at home. Mi casa es su casa. I've always wanted to say that." We were on the patio off the kitchen at this point and he pointed to a stairway leading down through a jungle of plants. "That's the way to the beach. If you come back really late, there's a white flag at the bottom to help you find it. Just lock the door behind you when you come in. Now, I'm going to go make us some dinner."

Bella insisted on helping him cook, but I stayed on the patio, sitting on the top step of the stairs and resting my elbows on my knees. The stairs descended about ten feet, then curved out of sight to the left. I tossed a pebble down, watching it land at the bottom, realizing I could only plan so far ahead, the future unknowable until we were there. I dropped my face into my hands, finally letting go of all the worry I'd accumulated since the moment I'd left Mala's hacienda Friday afternoon. No one knew we were here. No one could see my bike. No shopkeepers were asking intrusive questions. Harold's home was perfect, and if Bella wanted a mini-vacation, then she was going to get one. I pulled out my phone and looked up the number for Alberto.

That night we ate on the patio. Bella and Harold had cooked up a mean batch of fajitas, and we washed them down with plenty of cold beer, Harold refusing my offer to at least help pay for our food and drink. He and Bella had obviously bonded while making dinner, and he spent most of the meal flirting with her, making her laugh and blush. Her silly side came out in full force, though, and before long, she was teasing him back, giving as good as she got.

I watched them interact, a little jealous of how much attention Harold was getting, but enjoying their banter too much to interfere. Bella's eyes had a sparkle I hadn't noticed before, catching the patio lights when she laughed. Her skin had a glow from the sun, and her hair had dried off her face, tumbling in curls down her back. One of her bikini straps slipped down her shoulder, and I found my eyes resting on it, remembering how she'd looked at the beach.

**"**Anthony, did you hear me?"

**"**He's not listening, Priscilla, but look at him. He can't take his eyes off you. That's a man in love right there, looking but not listening."

Bella smiled at me and raised an eyebrow. I covered my embarrassment by sitting up and clearing my throat. "Did you ask me something?"

**"**I asked if you were done eating. We should do the dishes."

**"**Oh, no, you two aren't doing any dishes. I have a system, and you'll just mess it up."

I stood and started collecting plates. "At least let us clear us the table, Harold."

**"**No, I have a system for that too." He stood as well and took the dishes out of my hands. "Now, you two head down to the beach. The stars are coming out and you need to see them, like I told you. I'm going to clean up and go to bed. Oh, that reminds me, I'll put some overnight things in the dresser in your room. Now go. I'll see you in the morning."

**"**This is amazing," Bella said when we'd gotten far enough down the beach that we couldn't see any house lights. The stars looked close enough to reach up and touch. The moon was on the horizon already, a little bigger than it'd been the night before.

**"**It is."

**"**Look at the water." She went down to the shore, kicked off her boots, and wading in up to her ankles. "It's glowing."

**"**I've read about that, some kind of phosphorescent bacteria, I think."

She turned around. "Aren't you coming in?"

**"**No, I'll stay up here."

She reached down and scooped up some water, tossing it in my direction. "Is it just boats, or water too?"

The water missed me by a mile. "Let's just say you're lucky you can't aim."

**"**Oh, I can aim when I'm really trying, believe me."

**"**I believe it." I did, too. Bella waded for a few more minutes then joined me on the sand, picking up her boots. I took them out of her hands, carrying them for her, and we walked a little further down the beach.

**"**Harold's a real character, isn't he?" She finally asked me.

**"**Yeah, no kidding."

**"**He told me when we were making dinner that he's pretending I'm his granddaughter. Then he asked me if that was weird."

**"**What did you say?"

**"**I said it wasn't, that I could understand that." She chuckled a little.

**"**You've got him wrapped around your finger already, you know that, don't you?"

**"**What do you mean?"

**"**And the dog, too, for that matter. He spent the entire dinner at your feet."

**"**So?"

**"**And Alberto, now that I think of it."

**"**What's your point?"

**"**The border guard, the guys at the restaurant."

**"**Are you insinuating something?" She stopped and put her hands on her hips.

**"**Yes. I'm insinuating that men like you. Young, old, canine, it doesn't seem to matter." I turned to face her and her expression made me smile. "Don't be offended, I mean it as a compliment."

**"**It sounds like you're saying something else."

I sighed. What was I trying to say? "Why don't you have a boyfriend?"

**"**How do you know I don't?"

**"**You'd have mentioned him by now."

She looked at the water. Then we started walking again. "I guess I just haven't met the right guy. I mean, I've had boyfriends, but I never fell in love with any of them."

**"**No?"

**"**Nope. The closest was probably a boy back in high school, the one whose bikes I helped fix up. He told me he loved me once, but I used to beat him arm wrestling when we were kids, you know? He was more like a brother to me, but I did love him in a way."

**"**Poor guy."

She looked down at her feet. "In college I seemed to attract a certain type, a good type, don't get me wrong, but just … too good, I guess? Boring. The last guy I dated wanted to be an optometrist. Not that there's anything wrong with that," she added quickly.

**"**People gotta see."

**"**Exactly." She laughed. "That's what I told myself at first, but after a few weeks that turned out to be the most interesting thing about him."

**"**Ouch."

**"**Yeah, ouch."

We were silent for a few minutes, but I couldn't help myself. "So what is your type?"

**"**Oh, I don't know. He'd have to be smart, kind, and funny, for starters. Confident. Nice to animals. Romantic, but not cheesy romantic, thoughtful romantic, and reliable, but with an adventurous streak."

**"**So just your average guy, then."

**"**Yeah," she laughed again. "Now you know why I don't have a boyfriend."

**"**He'll turn up some day."

**"**You sound just like my mom." She chuckled, then let out a long sigh.

**"**Hey, sorry." I nudged her with my elbow. "She was right, though."

She nodded and fell back in step next to me. I felt her hand slip into mine. "No one can see us out here."

**"**I know." She squeezed my hand. I squeezed hers back.

When we got back to the house, August greeted us at the back door and followed us to our room. He jumped up on the bed while Bella opened the dresser. **"**Not funny, Harold," she muttered under her breath.

**"**What?"

Bella turned, holding a little scrap of black fabric in her hand. I took it from her. It was a negligee of some sort, tiny enough that it wouldn't cover much more than her bikini had.

"Are you sure he thinks you're his granddaughter?" I held it up to my chest and looked in the mirror. "Maybe this is for me."

She laughed and snatched it out my hands. "I'm pretty sure it's not. These must be yours." She reached back in the drawer and tossed me a pair of pajama pants. "But we can trade if you really want to."

**"**There's no top?"

**"**Nope, just the pants."

**"**Then you can take your pick. Either way it's a win for me."

She rolled her eyes and went across the hall to change in the bathroom. I slipped out of my clothes and into the pajama pants, and was just getting comfortable in the eighteen inches I had next to the dog when she peeked her head back in the door.

**"**Close your eyes."

**"**Why?"

**"**Just close them. You can't see me in this. I'm going to kill Harold."

**"**That's not being a very good guest," I laughed, closing my eyes until I felt her slide under the blankets. "Besides"—I looked over at her—"you were in a bikini all afternoon. What's the big deal?"

**"**This is different," was all she offered, pulling the covers up to her chin.

I smiled down at her and turned off my light. "You trust me, though, don't you?"

**"**Of course I do." She fell silent for a while. I got up and opened the window, letting in a little breeze and the sound of the ocean. After I'd gotten back in bed, I felt her roll toward me. "Edward, can I ask you something else?"

**"**Anything."

**"**How many people have you killed?"

I didn't answer for several moments, not because I didn't know, but because I didn't want to say. "What difference does it make?"

**"**I don't know. Some. None."

**"**I mean, one, ten, or a hundred, does a low number make me a better person, a high number worse?" I wasn't angry or defensive. I'd asked myself this question more than once over the years. I put an arm under my head and looked at the ceiling. "Why do you want to know?"

**"**I don't know." She was silent again for a while. "No, that's not true. I like you, and I want it to be okay to like you. Despite what you do."

I turned my head. I could make out her face but not her expression. "Did."

**"**Did?"

**"**I should have quit a long time ago, but you were definitely my last job."

**"**Oh."

**"**I can't apologize for my past, Bella. I can't make it go away. It is what it is. I guess it's up to you to decide whether I'm a good person or not."

**"**You are a good person. I know that."

She couldn't see me, but I shook my head. I wasn't so sure.

She pulled one of her arms out from under the covers and reached down to play with August's ears. "It's just whether you're bad, too, I guess."

**"**Oh, I am. Don't have any illusions about that. Don't try to make me into some kind of hitman with a heart of gold who only killed child molesters so he could afford his mother's medicine. That's not me. Not at all."

**"**Okay."

**"**Promise me you won't do that." Suddenly it was vitally important to me that she not be sugarcoating my past in her head. If she wanted to be okay with liking me, she had to honest with herself about it.

**"**Okay, I promise."

**"**Okay."

She didn't say anything for such a long time that if it weren't for her pale fingers still moving through August's fur, I'd have thought she'd fallen asleep. I was just beginning to drift off myself when she asked, "You don't mind if August sleeps in here with us?"

**"**No, not at all. It's kind of cozy."

She rolled back onto her other side, plumping her pillow and settling in. I barely heard what she said next. "Nice to animals. Check."

When I woke up in the morning, my arms were around something warm and hair was tickling my face. Please don't be the dog, was my first conscious thought. It wasn't. Bella was still facing away from me, but somehow during the night we'd both moved to the center of the bed, August no longer with us. My arm was draped over her waist and her head was tucked just under my chin. I kept still, not wanting to wake her, enjoying the warmth of her body, just savoring how good it felt to have her close. I lowered my face into her hair, wondering if she'd deliberately moved nearer to me last night, amazed at how trusting she was, sleeping – spooning – with the man who'd been hired to kill her, and after all she'd been through. I kissed her head, thinking about the asshole who'd hit her with his gun, wishing I could find him and return the favor. Then I remembered the bodyguard with the black eye and let out a tiny chuckle. She'd already handled it.

She stirred and rolled onto her back, one of her hands coming up to my chest and staying there, her face turned toward me. Her lashes were long and dark against her cheek, her lips slightly parted, her breath still slow and even. She really was beautiful, hers the kind of beauty that didn't need makeup, the kind of beauty that was perfect, just like this, with disheveled hair and—oh my god, what was she wearing? Or not wearing, maybe that was the question.

The blankets had slipped down when she'd rolled over, and I could see why she'd made me close my eyes last night. The black nightgown was sheer, almost invisible. I watched her chest rise and fall, her breasts as beautiful as I'd imagined, her nipples just a shade darker than the rest of her skin. I knew I should cover her, but I couldn't take my eyes off her nipples; they were just so fucking perfect. Maybe we could stay like this for just a little longer. Maybe I'd get really lucky and she'd sleep all day.

I was still staring at her breasts when I felt her hand move. Her fingers straightened and stretched, then reached up to my jaw. I pulled my eyes away and looked into her deep brown eyes. She'd been watching me watch her, I didn't know for how long, but instead of looking embarrassed or angry, something else flickered across her expression. She looked at my jaw, then back up into my eyes, and I saw it more clearly. She wanted me. She wanted me as much as I wanted her.

I could have kissed her then and she would have let me. Hell, the way she was looking at me, I could have done a lot more than kiss her, but something made me hold back. She needed to make up her mind about me still, and unless and until she made the first move, I wouldn't know for sure that her feelings were the same as mine. I lifted my arm off her stomach and brought my hand to her face, tracing her cheekbone with my thumb. I was falling in love with her, had been since the moment she'd thrown her whiskey at me. The memory of that night made me smile.

**"**What?" She asked softly.

I didn't answer at first, my smile widening as I pulled the blankets up to cover her. "Harold was right."

**"**About what?"

**"**A lot of things." I kissed her forehead, hoping that was enough of a clue. "How about we try to surprise him with breakfast?"

**"**Good idea. Close your eyes."

**"**Why?"

**"**I have to get up and go get dressed."

**"**But I already saw—**"**

**"**The whole nightgown is see-through, Edward, the whole damn thing. Now close them."

**"**Yes, ma'am."

Harold was in the kitchen when we got there, putting the finishing touches on a surprise breakfast for us. He took one look at Bella in the dress she'd been wearing yesterday and insisted that she borrow something new to wear from Mattie's closet. She put up a good fight, I'd give her that, but she never stood a chance. She gave me one last look of despair over her shoulder as Harold took her hand and dragged her out of the room. I raised my coffee cup to her with a smile.

Twenty minutes later they returned, Bella wearing a white dress that fit her perfectly. "Mattie and I are exactly the same size, isn't that nice?" She sat down next to me and helped herself to some fruit salad. "I got to try on at least five of her dresses." Something about the set of her mouth made me wonder if she was debating making good on her threat to murder our host.

**"**You look nice." She did. I still wasn't used to seeing her dressed in anything that flattered her, and it was a nice change. Very nice.

**"**That's what I told her," Harold said, sitting down across from us. "Why you would hide that lovely figure under a baggy dress, especially on your honeymoon, I have no idea. You can keep that one if you want it."

**"**Oh no, I couldn't."

**"**Well, it doesn't fit me, and no one else is going to wear it."

She looked at him for a second and then burst out laughing. "You have a point. Okay. Thank you."

**"**You're welcome. Think of it as a wedding gift. Now, pass the french toast, please."

After breakfast, Harold let us help clean up, then said he was taking August back down to the hotel beach if we wanted to come. I looked at Bella, deferring to her, but she shook her head and said that she felt like staying here.

**"**Okay, suit yourselves. There's food in the fridge if you get hungry. I'll be back later in the afternoon."

After he left, I told Bella the day was hers, that we'd do whatever she wanted. We ended up spending most of the morning reading on the patio after rummaging through Harold's bookcases in the living room. I heated up leftover fajitas for lunch, and when we were done eating, Bella suggested a walk on the beach. We went down barefooted this time and walked for a long time without talking.

Finally she turned toward the water and went down to wade. I figured what the hell and bent down to roll up my jeans, joining her in the water. She smiled but didn't say anything, just took my hand as we started back.

**"**Looks like that's the end of the sun today," she finally said, pointing up.

I hadn't noticed before, but clouds had taken over the horizon and were quickly advancing on the rest of the sky.**"**That must be the storm. I thought it was supposed to hit later in the week. What do you want to do?"

"What do you mean?"

**"**It's supposed to be a big one. Should we head back to our hotel before it hits or risk getting stuck here for a few more days?"

She thought about it for a while. "I suppose we shouldn't impose on Harold longer than we have. I wouldn't mind if we headed back."

**"**Good, that's what I was thinking. But you're sure? This is supposed to be your vacation."

**"**I'm sure. On one condition."

**"**What's that?"

She smiled and squeezed my hand. "You'll see when we get back to the house."

She made me wait on the living room couch while she disappeared in the direction Harold had taken her in the morning, coming back a minute later holding a guitar. "I saw this in Mattie's closet. I don't think Harold would mind if you played something for me, would he?"

**"**No, I don't think so." I took the guitar and strummed, tuning it and getting a feel for its sound. Not bad. "What do you want me to play?"

**"**Something you like." She sat on a chair across from me and waited while I plucked idly at the strings, searching my mind for something I liked that I thought she'd like too. Finally I settled on Mazzy Star's Fade Into You. I'd been toying around with it back home, trying to make it edgier, harder, like the other stuff I did. This time, though, I played it slow and soft, more like the original, trying to put my feelings for Bella into my voice.

I was about half way through the song when I looked up to check her reaction and was surprised to see that she'd turned away and was looking out the window, her hair shielding her face from me. I was used to all kinds of audience responses, from people not paying attention to girls actively checking me out, but I don't think I'd ever noticed anyone deliberately looking away. I kept my eyes on her for the rest of the song but she never once looked at me, not even a glance.

When I finished, I put the guitar down and leaned forward with my elbows on my knees. I fiddled with my ring while I waited for her to say something.

**"**Did you write that?" She was still looking out the window.

**"**No."

**"**Do you ever write your own songs?"

**"**Yeah, usually."

She turned to me, her expression serious. She got up and walked around the room. "That was really good. Really, really good."

**"**Thank you."

I watched her move restlessly from a display case to the bookshelves and back to the display case. She stopped at a group of photographs and picked one up, her fingers drumming the frame. Then she put it down and turned to me, squaring her shoulders, a small smile playing across her face.

**"**I want to go back to our hotel room. I want to go now."

**A/N: First, a huge thank you to my awesome beta snarkymuch, who plowed through four (!) chapters this morning. I'll try to build on her work ethic and get them up as soon as possible.**

**Second, thanks for all your kind words about my husband – he's getting better every day. In another three weeks, he can start putting weight on both legs and begin his rehab. And of course, once he's healed, I get six weeks off while he attends to my every need because that's how it works, right?**

**Lastly, thank you all for your reviews about this story. I know it's not like A Slow Boil, with less UST (a couple of reviewers mentioned they were eager for the romance to start - is the next chapter soon enough?), but I had fun writing it and I think - I hope - it will be worth your while to stick with it. My genuine thanks and appreciation to everyone who has.**

**I'll try to be back with another chapter in a day or two – kts.**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Harold returned just as we were leaving. We met him in the garage and explained that we'd decided to head back before the storm hit. He seemed genuinely upset that we were leaving until Bella gave him a big hug and whispered something in his ear. He grinned at whatever she'd said and hugged her back, then shook my hand and wished us well, making us promise to stop by again before we left Mexico. I said we'd try and thanked him again for having us.

On impulse, I wrote down my phone number for him and told him to call me if there was ever anything I could do to return the favor. He gave me his number, too, telling me as I punched it into my phone that we could call and ask to stay with him any time.

Bella squatted down to give August a final hug, then thanked Harold again for the dress. She hiked it up high enough to get on the bike behind me, and five minutes later, we were on the road back to Lorindo.

I wasn't entirely sure what had prompted Bella's request to return to our hotel, but when I felt her fingers slip under my t-shirt, I had my answer. I smiled and turned my head to look back at her. She was smiling, too. I reached down and held her hand against me, rubbing my thumb across her knuckles.

She tightened her legs, and I let go of her hand to cup her knee. Now this was the way to ride, with beautiful Bella behind me, her legs within easy reach. I ran my hand down her shin until I reached the top of her boot, amazed once again at how soft her skin was. She responded by sliding her hands down my hips, then over my thighs. As good as that felt, I didn't want her to let go of her grip, so I put her arms back around my waist, holding them there. She seemed to understand and kept them there the rest of the ride, hugging me tightly and pressing into my back.

The storm seemed to be chasing us, the sky darkening as we got closer to Lorindo, making it seem later than it was by the time we finally arrived around six. I parked in my usual spot and Bella got off first, removing her helmet and sunglasses and shaking out her hair. She smoothed her skirt as I put away our helmets and got our bag. The first raindrops started falling as she took my hand and pulled me toward the door.

Alberto looked up from his desk when we came in, but Bella called out that we were in a hurry and pulled me up the stairs behind her. I took my eyes off her gorgeous rear end - man, did I love this dress - long enough to shoot Alberto a smile. He smiled back and nodded approvingly, returning to his newspaper. Just an average night for Alberto.

But not an average night for me. Bella wrapped her arms around me as I dug the key out of my pocket and opened the door. She started to enter first, but I stopped her, bending down and scooping her up under her knees. This felt like a wedding night to me, I wasn't sure why, and I wanted to carry her in. She smiled at my gesture, amused and more than a little touched, I hoped, as I watched a blush spread across her cheeks. I kicked the door closed behind me, dropped our bag, and put her down on the bed, leaning forward to kiss her for the first time.

I meant to go slow, I swear I did, but the rush of blood that hit my groin the instant her lips met mine did something to my head. The thinking part of my brain switched off, and all I knew was that I needed more Bella, more of everything Bella. I couldn't seem to kiss her enough even though my mouth never left hers. I couldn't get her close enough even though I was holding her as tightly as I could without hurting her. I couldn't get her naked enough even though I'd pulled her dress up so high that I could run my hands down her endless, endless legs. My only consolation was that she was panting as hard as I was, struggling with my jacket while I fumbled with her zipper.

We gave up at the same time and undressed ourselves, our mouths still locked together. We had to pull apart for me to lift her dress over her head and throw off my shirt, but she pressed herself back into me as soon as they were off, running her hands over my back and into my hair, kissing my mouth, then my jaw, then my mouth again. I still needed more. I pulled her legs up around me and pressed myself down onto her, kissing her neck and her beautiful shoulders.

Why wasn't she closer? I circled her back, her pretty delicate back, with my arms, and pulled her into me, kissing her again. She hadn't been wearing a bra under the dress, and I felt her nipples rub against my chest, felt her arch up to me. Oh god, that was what I needed. Do that again, I silently willed her, and as if she could read my mind, she arched again, this time with her hips too. I groaned and buried my face in her neck, pressing back against her, needing so much for her to want this as much as I did.

I felt her hands run down my back, her fingers rigid, her nails light but threatening. She got to my hips and pulled them into hers, her legs rising to help. I pulled back enough to shuck off my jeans and her panties, and the next thing, I knew I was inside her. Oh God. Oh Bella. So good. So good. So good. Yes, move your hips like that. Yes. More. Again. Faster. Oh my god, my god, my god … I felt myself coming and there was nothing I could do to hold it back, nothing. In the same instant, she grabbed my hair and cried out, digging her fingers into my scalp hard enough that I'd never forget how it felt, hard enough that I'd never want to.

I don't know how long I laid on top of her before I came to my senses. I moved to roll off, to give her some air, but she used her thighs to keep me on her, to keep me in her. I kissed her neck, bringing my arms up so I could at least put some of my weight on my elbows. She was even more beautiful, if that was possible.

"I'm sorry," I whispered into her lips, leaning down to kiss her again, toying with her hair.

She opened her eyes. "For what?"

"I wanted to go slow."

"I didn't."

"I wanted to make love to you."

"You did."

"I wanted you to know."

"Know what?"

"How I feel about you."

"I do." She put her hands up to my face.

"You do?"

Her chocolate eyes smiled. "I could tell when you were singing."

"You could?"

"Yes."

"Good." I nuzzled my face into her neck, kissing her ear, pressing into her again with my hips. She let out a quiet groan and snaked her arms around my neck, pulling me back down to her, circling her hips up to mine. She moved her hips again, and then again, her breathing picking up along with her pace. Oh fuck, she was going to come again. She was definitely going to come again if I had anything to do with it. This time I had the control I needed to focus on her, at least I thought I did. She started making these soft little moans and did something else with her hips, and I started to lose it again. I felt her hands on my ass, felt her holding on to me as tightly as she could. She arched again, her head thrown back, her body tightening around me. When she cried out my name, drawing it out until it was nothing more than a whimper, I came so hard I saw stars.

She let me collapse on my stomach next to her. If her body felt anything like mine, she didn't have a choice. My muscles felt like liquid, my bones jelly. She was breathing as hard as I was, her breasts rising and falling in rhythm to our gasps, her nipples tight little pink staccatos. I managed to get my arm to work and cupped one of them, tracing the curve with my fingertips, memorizing it. Then I spread my hand over her heart, my fingers lifting fractionally with each strong beat. She covered my hand with hers, her eyes closed as she laced her fingers into mine.

A surge of emotion swept through me, something I'd never felt before for anyone. I liked women, and I'd liked my girlfriends, but this was something new. It was as if everything I'd ever seen and done, everything in my past, had happened for a reason and that was to bring me to this place, this bed, this woman. This is where I was supposed to be, with Bella, forever.

A kind of peacefulness washed over me at the realization, followed a second later by a desperate, clenching fear that she didn't feel the same way about me. I didn't know why she'd decided to sleep with me; she hadn't given me any indication of her feelings. Last night she'd said she liked me, but that could mean anything or nothing.

I knew I was considered good-looking to a lot of women. Hell, some nights after a show, I could literally have my pick of any of the women in the audience—and had. Suddenly it occurred to me that Bella had only slept with me because she'd heard me play. Oh fuck, in her head I was now the hitman with a heart of gold and the soul of artist, a romantic imaginary complete and utter fiction.

She stirred, stretching her legs, and brought my hand up to her lips, kissing my fingers. "Don't worry, Edward. I'll keep my promise."

"What?"

"I'm not making up any illusions about you."

I sighed in relief. "How do you do that?"

She put my arm over her waist as she rolled over toward me. "Do what?"

"Read my mind sometimes."

She smiled. "I don't know. Do I?"

"Yeah. It's like you're in my head."

She laughed and ran her fingers through my hair, keeping her hand there while she squinted her eyes and pursed her lips. "You're thinking about … the next step in your plan?"

I smiled and shook my head no.

She gave me a look that was half surprised, half congratulatory, then rubbed my head again, her face serious. "You're thinking about … food, about how long before it's polite to ask if I want to go get dinner." She arched a brow and waited for my confirmation.

I shook my head again.

She frowned and ran her fingers through my hair. I liked her hand in my hair whether she was stroking or pulling. "You're thinking about … something very important, very serious … something about sex is in there though, too." She bit her lip, concentrating. "Yes, I'm getting a lot of sex, lots of it." She laughed at her double entendre. "But there's something else … you have a dark side, Edward. It's very dark now."

Her eyes shifted away, narrowing. "You're afraid of something … not something that's out there trying to get you, but something within yourself … you're afraid of your own weaknesses … that you'll make a stupid mistake, miss the obvious ... forget something important. That's it. And sex." She looked up at me with a bright smile.

"Oh shit. Shit." I rolled away onto my back and covered my face with my hands. "Shit, I completely forgot. I've never forgotten before, ever. I'm so sorry -"

"What?" She perched up on her elbows, her smile changing into a look of concern.

"I didn't use a condom, either time." Fuck, where had my fucking brain gone? How could I have forgotten? Could we get her a morning after pill in Mexico? Would she need ID to get one?

"Edward, calm down." The concern had left her expression and she was smiling again. "I would have asked you to use one if I'd wanted you to."

"You would have?"

"Of course."

"Why didn't you?"

"I got the birth control shot a month before I was kidnapped. It lasts three months, so I'm still covered."

"How do you know I'm clean?"

She bent down to kiss me lightly. "I may not know everything about you, but I know that you're careful and that you plan ahead. Plus, I figured since you only go to Juanita's, and only once or twice a year, and that you came last week expecting your usual, that you hadn't caught anything there."

"Wait a second." I reached around her waist and pulled her on top of me. "Is that why you asked me that? Were you already thinking this was going to happen?"

"Maybe," she hedged, her smile turning into a grin. "I hadn't made up my mind yet, but a girl has to weigh her options, doesn't she?" She ran her lips over my jaw, kissed my chin, then rested her head on my shoulder.

I hugged her to me. Bella was more some kind of she-devil than just a girl, her mind so much like mine it was a little scary. We'd been thinking the same thing when we spent the afternoon together at the beach.

"What made you decide? Decide this was okay?" I ran my fingertips down her spine to the dip of her lower back and left my hand there, like I had at the beach.

"When you played that song for me, I mean, you could have played anything, I left it up to you, but you chose that one."

Now she was losing me again. "I don't get it."

She tilted her head to look at up me. "You are really good, your voice is just ..." She gave up looking for the word she wanted and put her head back down. "I had to look out the window just so you couldn't see what a stupid groupie face I had on. I'm sure you're used to lots of those." I shrugged noncommittally. "But I'm glad I turned away because then I could really listen."

"I'm still not following you."

"The song you picked was beautiful, but it didn't seem like something you'd play. You chose something you thought I'd like, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"And it wasn't even something you'd written yourself." She spread her fingers out through the light hair on my chest. "Most guys—well, anyone, really—would have showed off. Played what they thought was their best song. That's when I decided."

"When I didn't play my best song?" I looked down at her, still puzzled.

"It was so thoughtful of you."

"So no 'you can't be bad if you can play the guitar like that?'"

"Of course not. What does being a good musician have to do with being a hitman? Did you use your guitar to lure people to their deaths?"

I laughed out loud, shaking my head. Damn, as much as we thought alike, she was always a step ahead of me, always surprising me.

She pulled herself up, so she was propped on her hands, looking down at me. "I do want to hear your best song, though, some day."

"We'll see." I ran my hands down the sides of her torso, admiring her narrow waist.

She raised an eyebrow. "You're going to hold out on me?"

I shrugged like I wasn't sure. "It's just that I'm getting pretty good results so far. I don't know if I need to break out my best stuff."

"Only pretty good?" She scooted her legs up so she was straddling me and sat up, swinging her hair behind her back.

Oh god, she was so fucking gorgeous. Her breasts were fucking perfect, just the right size. I cupped them and traced her still taut nipples with my thumbs, mesmerized by how they fit my hands like they were made for me.

"I mean amazing."

"I think you're pretty amazing, too." She leaned down to kiss me, focusing on just my lips, brushing her mouth lightly over mine. I tried to deepen the kiss, but she wouldn't let me. I dropped my head back on the pillow and looked up at her. She reached up into my hair with one hand and cupped my jaw with the other, kissing me again as lightly as before, then hovering over me to kiss my cheekbones and eyelids. "I mean that, Edward." She lay down on top of me, then rolled off, curling up into my side, her face in my neck.

I wished I could believe her. I wanted to be as amazing to her as she was to me, wanted this thing happening between us to be real. I believed her that she wasn't making up illusions about me in her head, but fuck, I'd pretty much ridden in like the white knight and rescued her from Mala. After the trauma of losing her mother and being held captive for a month, it was only natural that she would latch on to me, only see the good in me. If we were going to be together, she'd have to know the truth, the bad stuff, and she'd have to accept that it was part of me. I traced my fingers over her soft shoulder, listening to her breaths even out and slow, feeling her fall asleep in my arms. I closed my eyes, memorizing every detail.

When I woke up a couple of hours later, the room was dark, the only thing my senses taking in the rain hitting the balcony door like buckshot. I rolled over to find Bella. She was right next to me on her stomach. I could barely make her out as I propped up on my elbow, her hair having fallen over her face; I tucked a strand behind her ear. She opened her eyes the second I touched her.

"You weren't sleeping?"

She shook her head.

"What have you been doing this whole time?"

"I slept a little. Then I watched you sleep before it got dark."

"Was it exciting?"

"I hadn't noticed until tonight that you snore a little. So, yes, extremely exciting."

I smiled and leaned down to kiss her cheek, then her ear. I made my way down to her neck, up under her chin, finally reaching her lips. She was smiling when I kissed them. "Are you hungry?"

"No."

"That's a first."

She gave me a little kick. "But we can go out if you are."

I fell back onto my pillow, pulling her in closer to me. "No, I'm not either."

She snuggled into me and I let out a contented sigh. God, this was nice. "I can't believe I used to be content with how you felt behind me on my bike. This is so much better."

I felt her chuckle. "I agree completely."

"You do?"

"Yes. You have a very nice back, Edward."

"I didn't know that."

"Don't let it go to your head, start walking in front of me all the time or anything."

I laughed. "I'll try not to."

She curled over onto her side, bringing an arm over my stomach, her hand resting on my hip. I lifted her enough to get an arm under her shoulders, bringing her up to rest on my chest, kissing the top of her head. We lay together for a long time just listening to the rain.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," she finally sighed.

"There you go again, getting in my head." I ran my fingers through her hair.

She put her hand on my chest and perched her chin on it. "So what were you thinking about earlier when I was trying to guess?"

What had I been thinking about? I didn't even remember. Oh yeah, how funny she was. How smart. How I liked her hand in my hair. How when she smiled at me, something deep inside of me smiled back. I could have told her all of that, but instead, I kissed her forehead and trailed my fingers down her spine. "You."

**A/N: Yay, another chapter up, all thanks to snarkymuch. I would have had it up even sooner, but transferring from google docs to here messes up the formatting, and I have to go through it line by line. Because of that, any grammatical or punctuation errors that remain are mine - not snarky's. **

****I don't think I mentioned previously that I made up the town of Lorindo, so don't bother trying to find it. It's in my head.****

**Anyways, hope you liked it. I'll try to get the next one up tomorrow - kts.**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

I woke up first the next morning, taking a moment to enjoy Bella's warmth before I eased out of bed and went to the use the bathroom. I found myself humming as I took a quick shower and shaved, smiling to myself in the mirror as I remembered Bella's joke about dying our hair gray.

I stood back a bit and tried to imagine what I'd look like. I wasn't getting any younger. In fact, I'd be thirty next year, but so far time had been kind to me. I wasn't used to seeing myself smile, though, and I wondered what Bella saw when she looked at me. My smile faded. No one, not even mind-reading Bella, could look at me and know the things that I'd done, know my history, know how bad I really was. I ran a hand through my hair, remembering the feel of Bella's hand last night and sighed. Whatever she was doing with me, whatever she was thinking, she'd run away from me faster than if I were Mala if she knew the truth.

I rested my hands on the counter and looked down into the sink. What had I been thinking? I might have feelings for her, but there was no way she could return them, not if she knew the real me. She was so smart, so good, and she had a future ahead of her, a future that I didn't fit into.

I looked back up into the mirror and took a deep breath. We had a few more days - maybe even a week - together, but once I got her back to the States she'd come to her senses, as she should. I wiped my face dry with a towel and looked at myself again, my smile returning. All I could do was make the most of the time we had left.

I was just coming out of the bathroom when she stretched, letting out a long contented sigh.

"Hey." I sat on the bed, running my hand down her neck to her shoulder.

"Hey." She smiled up at me, her eyes sleepy.

"I started your bath."

"You're the best." Her smile widened. "I mean that."

I bent down to kiss her shoulder, wondering what it was about them that drove me crazy. They were perfect, that was it, I thought as I nuzzled her soft skin. She slipped her hands into my hair as I kissed her neck and then worked my way down to her chest. There was something about the space between her breasts that I loved, too. Somehow when I kissed it, it felt like I was kissing her essence. She let out one of the quiet moans I was now familiar with, and I glanced up at her. She was watching me, her lips parted. Her hands had moved to my shoulders but she put them back in my hair and pulled my face up to hers. She gave me a gentle peck on the lips.

"I have morning breath."

"I don't care."

"I do." She put her hands back on my shoulders and gave me a little push.

"I'll see you after my bath. Or wait, no, during. Two pastries, please."

I was humming again as I trotted downstairs.

"Buenos dias, Señor Masen."

"Si, Alberto, it is a very buenos dias indeed. A very buenos dias." I made our coffees and piled a bunch of pastries on a plate, heading back upstairs.

"My advice, it worked?" Alberto called after me.

"You're a genius!" I hollered as I reached our floor.

I let myself into the bathroom without knocking. "Your breakfast, my lady." She had so many bubbles, way too many bubbles. I put her mug and the plate down on the side of the tub, then sat on it myself, dipping my fingers into the water, finding her leg.

"Mmm." She took a sip of coffee. "I could get used to this."

"So could I." My fingers found the spot behind her knee.

She sighed and rested her head back, looking up at the ceiling, her expression growing serious. "I just realized I don't even know your last name."

"It's Cullen." I kept my hand under her knee.

"Cullen. Edward Cullen." She tilted her head and bent her leg into my hand. I moved my hand to the top of her knee, unable to resist slipping a bit up her thigh.

"Edward Cullen," she repeated with a sigh, her eyes on the ceiling again. "I like it." She lowered her eyes to mine and smiled.

I reached for the sponge and pulled her leg out of the water, using it to wash her toes and the arch of her foot. I slid the sponge up her ankle and under the soft swell of her calf, coming back down her shin. When I was done, I lowered her leg and felt for the other one. "You have too many bubbles in here."

She laughed. "You'll just have to feel your way. Everything's right where you left it."

"Everything?" I smirked as I brought the sponge up her thigh.

"I'm pretty sure." She tilted her head back. "Unless you have some powers I don't know about."

I got to her hip and slowly drew the sponge over her flat stomach, my fingers hovering over her skin. I trailed a bit lower, finding the gentle rise of her mound.

"Oooh." She sat up with a frown, her lips pursed. "I'm a little sore. I'd better do that myself."

"I'm sorry. Was I too rough?" I handed her the sponge and sat back.

"No, you were perfect. I'm just out of use, I guess." She sat up and put her hand on my knee, pulling herself out of the water to kiss me. "Don't worry. It's a good kind of sore," she murmured against my lips. "The best kind, in fact."

Oh god, she was temptation incarnate. I slipped my hands around her warm soapy back and pulled her toward me, opening her mouth with mine while I reached down further to cup her perfect ass. If she weren't sore, I'd have hauled her out in one swoop and carried her dripping wet back to bed, but she was sore and I needed to give her time to recover. I lightened my kiss, taking her hand off my knee and easing her back into the water. "You need to eat."

She sighed and settled back down, picking up a pastry. "I am starving."

"I know."

She laughed and offered me a bite. "What are we going to do today?"

"I don't know. It's still raining." This might be a good time to try to get her over the border, when there were fewer people out, but I just didn't want to leave yet. "We should probably wait until it stops before we do anything."

"What do we do next?" She took a sip of her coffee.

"Just a second." I went and got my coffee, returning to the bathroom to perch on the side of the tub again, this time leaning against the back wall. "We have to get you back into the States, and you don't have ID, so the question is whether to try to get you some before we cross or chance our luck at the border."

"Can't we just cross again if we tell the guard we were let in to honeymoon?"

I shook my head. "They're a lot more careful about letting people in than they are letting them out. If you don't have ID, they're going to pull you over for questioning."

"But you don't have a passport either."

"Yes, I do."

"You do?"

"Yeah. A couple. They're in different names."

She looked at me for a moment before speaking. "If you have a passport, but I don't, and I get stopped, will they still let you through?"

"Maybe, I don't know. But I wouldn't leave you there by yourself." I watched her face furrow with worry. "Will you stop thinking about me for once? You're the one we should be focusing on. Assuming we come up with a way to get you over, what do you want to do? Where do you want to go?"

"I want to go back to Phoenix and find out why Mala killed my mother." She watched my face carefully, gauging my response.

"I had a feeling you were going to say that."

"You don't have to help me, though, Edward. You can just get me there and then go."

"Are you kidding?" I reached down into the water and wrapped my hand around her foot. "I have to make sure you're safe. No matter what you decide." About me, about us. I gave her foot a light squeeze. "We're partners until you get somewhere safe, got that?"

She smiled again, looking relieved, and nodded. "Until I get somewhere safe."

We spent the rest of the day doing what any normal honeymooning couple would do, that is if one of them was sore and the other extremely considerate and self-sacrificing. We traded ideas most of the morning of ways to get her back into the States, but didn't make much progress. More and more it was looking like we were going to need a third party, either paying someone to make her a fake passport or to smuggle her over, neither idea very satisfactory. Fake passports were hard to pull off with all the new post 9/11 enhancements and smuggling was just too risky. If she were caught either way, she wouldn't just be questioned, but detained and possibly arrested.

She paced the room while we talked, her mind on the task at hand. I tried not to watch her, my mind too often slipping off to all the things we could be doing that wouldn't make her sorer. Finally we both gave up and went to get lunch.

Alberto lent us an umbrella, the rain still coming down too hard to take my motorcycle. He offered to let me park my bike around back where there was an awning, and I told Bella to wait in the lobby while I moved it. She and Alberto were laughing when I came back in, and I asked her what was so funny as we walked down the street toward town.

"Oh, he's taking all the credit for getting you to shave." She linked her arm through mine as I held the umbrella above us. "He says if I needed any more favors, to let him know."

"For crying out loud. Can't all these guys see the ring on your finger?" I covered her hand with my free one, rubbing my thumb over her ring. She laughed and gave my arm a squeeze.

"None of them are seriously flirting with me. They just like the idea of helping out a newlywed." She stopped walking. "Hey."

"What?"

"Maybe Alberto knows someone who makes passports." She looked up me. "Would it be a good idea to ask him?"

"It's possible. He's used to dealing with Americans, so he might know someone, but I'm still not sure that's the way to go."

"But what other choice is there?"

"I don't know. I need to think about it more. There's got to be a better way."

It was easier to think outside of our room without her distracting me, so I suggested we do a little more sightseeing after lunch. There were hardly any other people out, but she kept her arm linked through mine the whole time. We ventured a little farther than we had last time but didn't talk much, both us lost in our thoughts. Every now and then she'd make a suggestion, but I'd point out its flaws, and she did the same whenever I thought of something. Bouncing ideas off each other, but getting no closer to solving our dilemma, we finally turned and headed back.

"Buy me a beer?" Bella stopped in front of a bar that had a string of cheesy sombrero lights around its front door.

"Here?"

"Why not?" She nudged me with her hip. "I say that until we have a plan, we're still on vacation."

I opened the door for her. "After you then, Silly."

The beer was followed by margaritas, some ridiculously silly Bella, then some food. Eventually a mariachi band started up. Bella leaned forward onto the table, listening earnestly to their first number.

"They're not nearly as good as you," she frowned.

"They're just getting started. Give them some time."

"Time, shmime. You didn't need any."

"It's different when you play in a group. Sometimes it takes a while to get in sync."

She blew out a dismissive snort. "The sync is either there at the beginning or it isn't, am I right?"

I laughed into my almost empty beer. She was right, about more than band members.

"Hey." She reached up and turned my face towards hers. "I love it when you laugh."

"You do?"

"Hm-hmm. Most of the time you look so serious, like you're thinking about such serious things, but when you laugh, even though you get these crinkles here," her fingers caressed the skin near my eyes, "you look younger, more carefree." She looked me over carefully. "That probably didn't make any sense."

"No, Silly, it did. This time with you is the most I've relaxed in years. I guess it shows." I reached for her knee under the table at the same time she leaned in and kissed me.

Had I not kissed her since this morning? How could I not have? Her lips had the same effect on me that they had last night, my brain shutting off, my body just wanting more. I leaned into her and opened her mouth with mine, needing desperately to taste her. I could have devoured her right there at the table, and was actually considering it when a bright light hit my eyes, so bright that even though my eyes were closed, I had to squint against it.

"And who do we have here? Newlyweds? Americanos?" I looked up into the light, taking a minute to realize that the mariachi band had focused its spotlight on us and that the lead singer was talking into his microphone. Oh, no.

Oh, yes. He was walking toward us, his eyes on Bella. "Señora? Or Señorita?"

"Señora," Bella answered, pulling away from me. Damn it.

"Ah, I was right. Honeymooners?"

"Yes."

"Are you enjoying our lovely country?"

"Oh yes, so much."

He was at our table now, the spotlight still on us. "Let's hear it for this wonderful couple, finding love in the most lovely of countries." That made less sense than anything Bella'd said tonight, but the rest of the patrons applauded politely. "Let us know if there's anything else we can do to make your visit here memorable." He started moving away, on to the next table, but Bella cleared her throat.

"Actually, there is something."

"Si, señora?"

"My husband's a guitarist, and he's always wanted to play with a mariachi band."

I narrowed my eyes at her. What the fuck?

"Oh, si, señor?"

I started to shake my head no, but Bella got a gleam in her eye, arched a brow, and gave me a push to get up. "Yes, it's his dream. That's one of the reasons we came here."

"Well then, there's always room for another fellow musician. Let's get you up there."

The next thing I knew, I was on stage, a guitar strapped over my shoulder. I gave Bella an 'I will get you back for this' look and strummed, assuring the rest of the band that I knew how to play. They started in on their next song, and I was actually able to keep up, adding some things as I went. The guy on my left nodded, watching me as he listened, adding some notes of his own. My sound was very Chicago based, very heavy on the blues, which shouldn't have worked at all with a mariachi band, but this guy made it work, melding my sound to theirs, dipping enough into the blues to make it sound like that was what we were trying to do.

I ended up having so much fun improvising that I played four songs with them. When I finally left the stage, the audience gave me a standing ovation while the guitarist next to me clapped my shoulder and put his sombrero on my head. I guessed I was an honorary member of a mariachi band.

"Happy?" I asked Bella, pretending to be upset.

"Very. You are too. I can tell."

"That was fun. I won't lie, but I will get you back."

"Feel free." She leaned in and kissed me. "You were amazing up there." She reached up and pulled off the sombrero, running her hands through my hair. "We should go back to our room," she murmured against my lips.

That was all the invitation I needed, pulling her to her feet. I threw enough pesos down on the table to cover our bill, and we went back out into the rain. The sky had darkened while we were in the bar and the neon lights were glowing, reflecting off the wet pavement. Bella put her arm through mine again as I opened the umbrella, the sound of the rain hitting it the only noise as we walked back. There were no other people out and it felt like the world was ours alone. I switched the umbrella to my other hand and wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her closer to me. She smiled up at me, embracing me too, one of her hands making a fist in the back of my shirt.

Alberto was gone when we got to the hotel, so I shook out the umbrella as best I could and left it propped against the desk. Bella made a gesture for me to the stairs first, so I took her hand and started up. Halfway to our room I looked back over my shoulder. She was staring at my back, biting her lip.

"Lay down on your stomach," she said after locking the door behind us.

"On my stomach?"

"Take your shirt off first."

I did what she said and felt her climb on top of me. Her hands stroked my hair, then my neck, then my shoulders. I felt her lean down, felt her hair tickle me, then her mouth, hot and wet, as she kissed the top of my shoulder, moving slowly to the other one. She pulled away, and I heard the rustle of fabric as she took off her shirt. Then she returned, pressing herself against me, kissing me again, tasting me with her tongue. I groaned and started to roll over.

"No, not yet." She held me down, rubbing her breasts on me while she worked her way down my spine. When she reached the top of my jeans, she sat up, and I felt her hands reach back and pull off my boots.

"Okay, you can roll over."

I did and reached for her, but she shook her head, taking my hands and putting them up by my head, arching her brow. I tightened my hands into fists, torn between needing to touch her and curious to see what she was up to.

She slowly undid the buttons of my fly and eased off my jeans and underwear. I was already hard, and the look she gave my cock made me seize up with desire. She didn't touch me, though, instead standing and slowly removing her own jeans. All she had on was some kind of little G-string, so small wearing it had to be pointless. I willed her to take it off, too, but she got back on top me with it still on.

"Can I touch you now?"

"No, not until I say." She perched up on all fours over me, bending down to kiss me lightly, too lightly, her lips just touching mine, her body brushing teasingly against me. "You taste so good, Edward," she murmured, her mouth on my neck, her tongue working wicked little circles on my skin. She kissed her way down my chest, brushing her fingers lightly over me, licking at my nipples.

"Bella," I groaned as she made her way my stomach. I looked down and caught the flash of her teeth when she smiled.

"You're so hard for me," she whispered, taking me in her hand. "So hard. So beautiful. This is mine."

Oh fuck, she was talking dirty. I felt the first light sweep of her tongue over the head of my cock and had to turn my face into the pillow to get some control back, a moan coming from deep inside. She licked me up and down slowly, deliberately, then took me in her mouth, inch by slow inch. I couldn't help myself and thrust up, needing more, but she put her hands on my hips, holding me still, returning to caressing me with her tongue.

"Don't move." She slowly engulfed me again, taking me all the way in, swirling her tongue around me as she went, sucking lightly, until I could feel the back of her throat. I was breathing in gasps, my muscles beginning to jerk, my thighs tightening. She sensed my excitement and released me slowly, her fingers caressing me as she let go with her mouth.

"You're close already, aren't you?"

"Yes," I groaned.

"I don't want you to come yet, though." She swirled her fingers over my head, and I struggled to get control of my breathing, my body. "I don't want you to come until you're inside of me. Deep, deep inside of me." She started licking again, and I covered my face with my hands. I didn't think I'd ever felt this hard, this desperate, before in my life. I wanted nothing more than to roll her over and fuck her senseless, but a part of my brain that still seemed to be working told me to wait and let her stay in control. Whether because she was still sore or because she needed this, I didn't know, but I dug my hands into my hair, letting her continue.

She brought me to the brink twice more, stopping each time she felt me start to tremble. Finally she took pity on me and moved back up, slipping off her underwear and rubbing herself on me.  
>"Can you feel how much I want you? How much I want your hard cock?"<p>

"So wet," was all I managed to get out, begging her in my head to seat herself on me. She read my mind and slowly lowered herself.

"Oh fuck, you feel so good. So good, Edward." She lifted herself up onto her knees so that the only part of her body touching me was her pussy sliding up and down. "You can touch me now," she gasped.

I reached up for her, pulling her down to me and kissing her as hard as I could. Then I flipped her onto her stomach, spreading her thighs with mine and grasping her hips, pulling her up to me. It was her turn to let out a moan and fist her hands into the sheets as I thrust into her.

"Oh god, yes, harder!" She lifted her hips to me and arched her back.

I let go of one of her hips and bent over her beautiful back, using a hand in her hair to pull her head up to mine. I ran my open mouth down her neck, over her perfect shoulder, and back to her ear. "You're not sore anymore?"

She shook her head quickly, her hips moving against mine.

I started thrusting, the position we were in giving me back the control I needed. "You will be."

**A/N: Well. I can't quite believe that I'm writing this sort of stuff, let alone formatting and reformatting for hours until it's post-worthy. If anyone out there knows any shortcuts, please let me know. Really. PM me. I mean it. **


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Scoot forward. Let me get in behind you."

"Come on in, tiger."

"Tiger?" I made myself comfortable in the bath. "I thought I was a wolf."

"Oh no, I changed my mind about that a long time ago. Keep up." She nestled back against me, pulling my legs around her, resting her head on my chest.

"These bubbles are nice." I ran my hands up her stomach and cupped her breasts.

"The bubbles?" She laughed.

"The bubbles," I kissed her neck while I thumbed her nipples, "are very, very nice."

"Edward, that tickles!" She laughed again, twisting up to kiss me. "And it's not fair. I can't tickle you back."

I let go of her breasts, sliding my arms around her torso and pulling her to me in a fierce hug, burying my face in her neck, wishing so much that we could do this every day together, forever, but knowing that we wouldn't. I sighed as I released my grip and reached for her shampoo. "Get your hair wet and I'll wash it for you."

She scooted down to the space between my legs, dipping her head into the water, smiling up me upside down. "Don't you want to know why you're not a wolf anymore?"

"Why am I not a wolf?" She sat back up, and I got a lather going in her hair.

"Two reasons. First, you're not the loner you think you are."

"I'm not?"

"No, not at all. We've been together for a week, twenty-four hours a day, and you're not sick of me yet, are you? Or wanting time to yourself?"

"No, neither." I had her hair piled on top of her head and kissed the back of her neck. "What's the other reason?"

"You're not the bad guy. You might have done bad things, but you're not the big bad wolf. Not at all."

I worked on her hair, massaging her scalp, trying to be gentle. "You can rinse now." She lay back down in the water, and I eased my fingers through her wet strands, then helped her back up. I grabbed the sponge and started washing her pretty back.

"Bella," I said quietly. "You don't know some of the things I've done." Should I tell her, have this end now? I couldn't do it and stayed silent.

"No, I don't." She turned to look at me. "I hope you'll tell me some day."

"Why would you even want to know?"

"Because then I'll know you trust me like I trust you. You're afraid I won't want to be with you if I know the truth."

"I know you won't, but I don't blame you." She was in my head again.

She smiled a little. "That's for me to decide, isn't it? A girl's got to weigh her options."

I pulled her back against me and lifted one of her arms, watching the suds cascade back into the water as I ran the sponge from her wrist to her shoulder. She snuggled against my chest and sighed. "I guess we're both pretending."

"What do you mean?"

"You're convinced you're a bad person, but all I've seen is good, and I thought I was a classic good girl, but I sure haven't been acting like one."

"Yes, you have. What are you talking about?"

"This"—she gestured at the tub—"and that." She gestured toward our room.

"You've taken baths before."

She laughed. "Not with a man, and one I only met a week ago. I'm not this—what's the word—wanton. This isn't me. Last night wasn't me."

"Last night was incredible." I toyed with the strands of her hair, remembering how I'd pulled on it.

"Yeah, it was. But I've never done anything like that before. I don't understand what's going on with me. I can't tell if it's you, or being here, or this honeymoon charade, but I'm afraid when we get back to Phoenix and you find out how boring I really am … how vanilla ..." Her voice petered out.

"You're nothing like vanilla, except your skin maybe a little." I draped my fingers over her shoulder. "You're chocolate, sometimes mixed with orange. A little tequila."

"You sound like you're making up a new cocktail."

"Yes. It's called the Beautiful Bella."

She snickered and relaxed into me. "I'm serious, though."

"I know you are." I lifted her other arm out of the water, working the sponge up slowly. "You are good, too good. That's part of the problem."

"Hmm?" She pushed herself up a little, using my thighs for balance, rubbing her ass on me. "Too good? And that's a problem?"

"I don't deserve you." I squeezed the sponge out over her shoulder, the soap spilling slowly over her breasts.

She rubbed against me again. "Maybe I'm not as good as you think."

"No?" I cupped her breast with one hand, dropping the sponge and spreading the other over her stomach.

"You seem to bring out a naughty streak I didn't know I had." She put her hand over mine and moved it lower.

"See, I told you I was bad."

Oh fuck, I couldn't tell if she was wet but she was sure as hell swollen. I played with her clit lightly, not sure if she was sore from last night, not wanting to hurt her.

"No, this is good. So good. Ah," she gasped, lifting her hips.

"Tell me exactly how to touch you, tell me what you want."

"Oh," she groaned. "Right there. More."

"Harder or faster?"

"Both. Oh god, yes, Edward, just like that." She turned her face into my neck, and I could feel her little gasps, using them to gauge whether she was close. She was so fucking responsive; it was hard to tell. She arched her back, pressing her ass into me, and I let out a groan of my own. I would have sworn after last night that she'd worn me out for at least a day, but I was wrong. She was too fucking sexy for her own good. My own good.

She reached down and held onto my hips while she arched again. "Your fingers, God, your fingers, what they do to me." I took that as a hint and slipped one inside of her, keeping my thumb moving on her clit.

"Oh! Yes, another one!" She lifted her hips as I eased in another, her face still pressed into my neck. I curled my fingers a little, trying to find her perfect spot, trying to control my own breathing as she pressed back against me, moaning and writhing.

"Edward," she said, her voice a whisper. "That's it, right there, oh … oh ..."

God, those fucking little moans of hers. I swear I could come just from the sounds she made alone. I tightened my arm around her waist, holding her down to me and pressing myself into her, rubbing my cock between her cheeks, thinking if she didn't come soon I might actually, just like this.

"Oh …!" She let out a long, loud groan, and I felt her tighten around my fingers, felt her flutter and clench at the same time, her legs stiffening. Fuck, if I remembered one thing, one thing in my life, let it be this moment, her breath on my neck, her hands on my hips, her muscles relaxing as she sank back down onto me. I eased my fingers out of her and covered her mound with my hand. If last night my cock was hers, this morning her pussy was mine. She was mine. All of her, every gorgeous sexy square inch.

I hugged her to me and kissed her forehead. She opened her eyes half-way and looked up at me through her lashes, her expression serious but something playing around her eyes. I reached up and cupped her chin, lifting her head to get a better look. It wasn't quite the same as the morning we'd woken up together at Harold's but close.

She let me hold her for another minute, her expression unchanging but still unreadable, and then she shifted her body, straddling me in one graceful movement.

"Bella, you don't have to—"

She cupped my dick and ran her hand up and down it lightly, her thumb teasing the head, the suds providing the perfect amount of lubrication. "I know I don't. I want to. You're not trying to tell me what to do, are you?" She smiled up at me as she raised herself, then lowered onto me.

I shook my head, immediately made speechless by how good she felt. God damn it, was I never going to get enough of this woman? The more I had her, the more I wanted her. I reached for her hips and pulled her down onto me as much as I could, pushing up into her as deeply as possible, wishing I had better traction, but on my back in the bath there was only so much I could do. I thought about carrying her back to bed, but before I could begin to rise, she started moving on me.

I groaned and put my head back. What was it about her? Why was she so fucking perfect? I looked down to where we were joined, her hips rocking on me, then up to her face. She was watching me, her hands on my shoulders. She lowered her torso, each motion of her hips matching a stroke of her nipples across my chest. Then she licked her lips and moved her hands up to my neck to my jaw, cupping my face, her weight on my shoulders as she leaned down to kiss me, one of her light, teasing kisses. I didn't try to deepen it although I wanted to, letting her hover again.

She kissed my jaw, making her way to my ear. "I want to watch you come." She added a circular motion to her hips and I gasped. "I want you to come hard, so hard I can feel it inside." She licked my ear and moved up to watch my face. I tried to keep my eyes open, to keep her beautiful chocolate eyes in focus, but when I felt the first twinge of my orgasm I groaned involuntarily and put my head back. "Oh fuck, Bella, fuck!"

"Harder, Edward. Come harder. I want to feel it."

"I want—"

"What do you want?"

"You to come, too."

"I did." She bent down and kissed me again, slipping her tongue into my mouth to circle lightly around mine, her tongue and hips both doing spirals on me, their combined effect sending me into a spiral of my own. There was nothing, nothing, on this planet that felt as good as this. Nothing. I gave in to the feeling, letting the orgasm wash over me, releasing into her with the only thought that each time it felt even better than the last.

"Ah, that's it. That's what I wanted to feel." She let go of my jaw and sat up, putting her hand over her lower belly.

"What?" I managed to form the word.

"You twitching inside of me. There's something so sexy about that, when I can feel you coming. I love it." She smiled at me, rubbing her belly.

I looked at her in awe. "I don't deserve you."

A flash of different emotions ran over her face before it settled on the one I couldn't read. "You said that before."

"It's true. I haven't done one single thing in my life that should have brought you to me."

"So you're not just superstitious, you believe in karma?"

"I don't know. No. Yes."

She eased off of my cock but stayed on my lap. "Do you think you don't to deserve to find someone, to have love?"

I'd never really thought about it, but yeah, I did. I nodded.

She sighed and kissed me, nipping once at my lower lip. "Well, it's a good thing you can't rely on karma, then."

"And why is that?"

"Because it's a bitch." She shrugged matter-of-factly.

I snorted and wrapped my arms around her. "I changed my mind. You're not much of a good girl after all."

"That's okay. You're not much of a bad boy, tiger."

I put a hand on the back of her head and pulled her down to kiss her again, opening her mouth, needing to taste her again. Maybe she was right and we were both pretending, maybe neither one of us was completely good or bad, I didn't know. All I knew was that I had this beautiful, perfect creature in my arms, kissing me back, and that I was the luckiest fucker who'd ever lived.

She sat back up and scooped some water on my head. "Your turn for a shampoo."

I sat up a bit and she perched on my thighs, easing her fingers over my scalp while she lathered me. I watched her face while she worked, her expression hard to read again. She looked happy but not as playful as before, a little more wistful. "What are you thinking about?"

"Honestly?"

"Always honestly. Always be honest with me."

She smiled and nodded. "I want to know more about you but I'm not sure what to ask."

"Start with something easy."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-nine. You?"

"Twenty-three." She finished massaging my scalp and started sculpting my hair. "Are you from Chicago originally?"

"No."

"No?"

"I'm not really from anywhere. My dad was in the navy and we moved a lot."

"Ah. How long have you lived in Chicago, then?"

"Seven years." I watched her do the math in her head.

"Where did you live before that?"

"Baltimore."

She was twisting my hair now, making it into what felt like some kind of a soft-serve ice cream cone. "Did you go to school there?"

"No."

She smiled at her handiwork and looked me over. "Did you got to school anywhere?"

"Yes, if you mean college. A couple of years."

"You didn't graduate?"

"Nope."

"That's okay, I won't hold it against you."

"Oh, thank goodness." I tickled her waist a little. I had no remorse about quitting school. I had been happy to leave and had never looked back, but I wasn't proud about the circumstances I'd quit under and hoped she'd find a new line of questioning.

She picked up the sponge and poured on a little bath wash, most of our bubbles having dissipated, then went to work on my neck, reaching up with her hand to caress my jaw. "You do have a very nice jaw, Edward."

"Thank you. It took a lot of work to develop."

She snickered. "Did you get it from your dad?"

"No. I mean, I don't know. I was adopted."

"Oh."

I hadn't had this conversation with anyone in years. I watched her keep her eyes on my chest, her teeth coming out to worry at her lower lip, wondering if she should ask me anything further. "It's okay to ask me about my family."

She looked up at me and stopped moving her hands. "What are your parents like?"

"You just get straight to it, don't you?"

"What do you mean?" She started drawing the sponge over my shoulder.

"You're wondering if I had terrible parents, if that explains my life of crime."

"Well, does it?"

"No, not really."

"Then tell me about them."

I sighed, not having thought of them in ages, and leaned back against the tub. "I was seven when the Cullens adopted me. Esme and Carlisle couldn't have children of their own, and they thought it would be a good idea to adopt an older child since everyone else wanted babies. They found me in foster care when Carlisle was stationed in Maine."

"Why were you in foster care?"

"I don't know. I never tried to find out."

"You didn't?"

"No. When I was a teenager I thought about it sometimes, but I realized it didn't matter. Either my birth mother didn't want me, or couldn't keep me, it was all the same in the end."

"Oh."

"Don't feel sorry for me."

She shook her head.

"The Cullens were good people. They gave me a good home, a good upbringing. The only thing I didn't like was all the moving."

"What didn't you like about it?"

"I don't know. It's hard when you're a military brat. A new school every couple of years, no close friends. As I got older, I wanted more than anything to just stay somewhere, have a place, you know? A place to be from, that seemed like the normal thing everyone else had."

She moved to my other shoulder, her face darkening. "And now I've taken Chicago away from you, too."

"Bella, I took it away from myself. By doing what I do. Did." I reached up and cupped her face. "Got that?"

"Yes, sir." She gave me a little salute and a half-smile, not looking completely convinced but a little more accepting. "Close your eyes." She started scooping water over my head, rinsing out the shampoo. "You said no, not really, though. What was the not really for?"

I kept my eyes closed. "Esme finally got pregnant within a year of adopting me. Twin girls."

"You have sisters? I'm jealous."

"Yeah?"

"I'm an only child. I always wondered what it would be like."

"It was okay. They're nice kids. Oh shit, they're only a little younger than you." I opened my eyes. "Either I'm getting old or I'm a perv. I still think of them as girls."

She laughed a little and told me to close my eyes again. I felt her lean in to kiss my cheek before she started scooping more water on my head. "What are their names?"

"Alice and Rose."

"Nice. Are they identical?"

"God, no. You'd never know they were twins."

"So what was the problem?"

I opened my eyes. Bella had finished my hair and was doing her best to rinse my shoulders although the water now had shampoo in it, and she couldn't get the suds off. I watched her while I tried to figure out how to answer. I'd never confided this to anyone, the words unpracticed. Finally it felt like I was taking too long, so I just told her. "The first year I lived with them, Esme and Carlisle spoiled me rotten, but after the twins were born, it was different. It had to be, of course. They didn't have as much time, as much attention. But pretty soon it became clear that Carlisle, especially, thought he'd finally gotten his children, and I began to feel like a third wheel."

"Oh, Edward." Bella's brow furrowed in sympathy.

"It was never anything explicit, just a feeling I always got. I mean, it wasn't his fault, adopting a boy at seven, it's hard to bond, but he bonded so tightly to his daughters. I began to feel invisible sometimes."

"What about your mother?"

"Esme tried harder. She spent more time with me, made an effort to find out my interests. She bought me my first guitar."

"She did?"

"Yeah." I remembered an afternoon when we were living in Guam. Esme'd come up to my room when I was about twelve and sat on my bed, asking me how I liked the new school, if I'd made any friends, looking around at all the rock posters I'd put up. The next week there was a guitar on my bed one day when I got home from school. I'd been so fucking excited, like it was Christmas. "Yeah, she tried."

Bella gave up trying to rinse me and rested her weight on my shoulders, her fingers playing with my ears. "But not your dad?"

"Not so much, no."

She leaned down and kissed me. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It was a long time ago."

"Where are they now?"

"Baltimore, I assume. Maybe not. We're out of touch."

She nodded, her mouth tightening.

"Hey. What?"

"It's just … you may be out of touch, but you have a family. You may not have a place, but you have people."

Her expression had turned kind of inward, and I realized she'd never once mentioned going to her father as an option. Was it possible she was even more alone in the world than I? I wanted to ask her, but her face had gotten so sad that I couldn't bear to make her feel worse. Instead I wrapped my arms around her waist and slid down suddenly into the water, shaking my head to rinse it before sitting back up. "We should get out before you turn into a prune."

I wrapped a towel around her before drying myself, and we went to get dressed. It had stopped raining but the sky was still overcast.

"I should find out if Alberto has a laundry service," I said to myself as I pulled on my jeans. Bella'd pulled on some black underwear and a matching bra, the black making her skin look like the finest ivory. I watched her pull on her jeans and then shrug on a baggy shirt. She smiled at me when she noticed I was watching and lifted the shirt off her shoulders a little, exaggerating its size.

"So, are we going to hang around here another day?"

I walked over to the balcony and pushed the door open, stepping out. Bella joined me, and I put my arm over her shoulder, pulling her closer to me. We looked up at the sky together. The worst of the storm was definitely over. "Are you in a hurry to get back to the States?"

"No." She rested her head on my chest. "I should be, but I'm not. Are you?"

"Not at all." I pulled her closer. I knew we were just postponing the inevitable, but until we had a solid plan for getting her across the border, I was happy to stay another day. "We should go get some breakfast. I never brought you your coffee and pastries this morning."

"Don't think I didn't notice"—she smiled—"but you made it up to me, so I'm willing to let it slide this once."

"Very generous of you," I smiled back, bending down to kiss the tip of her nose. "Come on, you must be starving."

We went back in the room and gathered our things. On impulse, I called down to the front desk to Alberto if he had a laundry service. He said to just leave whatever we needed washed on the bed and housekeeping would take care of it. I told Bella, and she started throwing her dirty clothes on the bed. What I really needed washed were my jeans, but I didn't have anything else to wear except my swim trunks. I held them up to Bella. "Do you think it's okay to go out to breakfast in these?"

"Sure, why not?"

I slipped out of my jeans and put them on. "It just seems weird."

"You can borrow one of my skirts. They're big enough."

"So generous," I laughed. "But no, I'll leave the skirt wearing to Harold."

"Oh, I should add my dress." Bella went over to the closet and pulled it out, holding it up in front of her, smoothing down the fabric. "This actually is a really nice dress. I'm lucky Mattie was my size." She started removing it from its hanger.

"Stop."

"What?" She froze and looked up at me.

"Mattie was your size." I had it. I had the plan.

She frowned, looking at the dress, confused.

"If you dye your hair grey, if you wear something of Mattie's ..."

"But where am I going to get a—"

"Harold might still have her—"

"Passport." We stared at each other for a minute, both us working it out in our heads. Bella put the dress down on the bed and started pacing.

"Edward, there's no way I can pass for an eighty year old woman. Neither of us could pull off that kind of makeup."

"No, but if you pretend to be asleep or sick or something, keep your sunglasses on …"

"I couldn't pretend to be asleep on the back of your bike."

"You wouldn't be on my bike."

Her eyes scanned mine. "Then we're going to need …"

"Harold's car."

"And you'll be driving it? Are we going to pretend I'm your grandmother?"

I didn't like that idea. It would be better if we didn't cross together. "No, you're being driven by Harold."

She nodded. "Yes. He's taking his sick wife into the States for medical treatment."

"He's worried, in a hurry."

"He thinks his wife might be dying."

"Too much. Border patrol might call an ambulance."

Bella stopped in front of me with her hands on her hips. "Do you think it could work?"

"I think it could."

She took a deep breath in through her nose. "Okay. We'll ask Harold to help us, but on one condition; we have to tell him everything. He has to know the risk he's taking if he says yes."

I nodded my agreement and grabbed the phone again. "Alberto? Cancel the laundry service. We've had a change of plans. We'll be checking out."

I called Harold while Bella packed, catching him just before he left for the beach. I told him that Priscilla and I had a favor to ask him, but that we needed to talk in person. He sounded happy to hear from me and said he'd be back around noon and would make us lunch.

"What if he says no?" Bella was on her way back from the bathroom with the bottle of bath wash and my shaving gear.

"Then we'll think of something else." I changed back into my jeans and stuffed my swim trunks into our bag. It was barely going to hold everything we'd bought, but I tightened the cap on the bath wash and made it fit.

"So we're not coming back here?"

"We've been here long enough. If Harold says no, we'll get a place on the coast." Now that I had a plan coming together in my head, I was anxious to get moving, impatient with details that didn't matter yet. Bella looked like she wanted to ask me something else, but she changed her mind, getting the last of her stuff together. She put on her boots and jacket, slung her new purse over her shoulder, and started stripping the bed.

"What are you doing that for?" I pocketed my phone and wallet.

I don't know." She pulled off a pillowcase. "I just am."

"Hey." I took her arm and wrapped it around my waist, using my other one to pull her into a tight hug. She was so thoughtful—giving me the silence I needed to think and turning her attention to helping the housekeeper. When did she ever think about herself?

"What?"

I put my forehead down on hers, holding her tightly. Read my mind, I said to her in my head. Because I think I fucking love you.

**A/N: Four chapters in five days; not too shabby if I say so myself. I've sent the next batch of chapters off to my betas, and I'll get them up as soon as I can. I figured out a way to avoid the formatting problems, so that (hopefully) won't slow me down any more either.**

**I'm sorry I don't have time to respond to your reviews, but I love reading them. Your feedback really helps me be a better writer, as I can tell whether a plot twist worked - or not. And your guesses about what's going to happen next are so entertaining - some of you are very perceptive, and some of you are just plain more imaginative than I!**

**Thanks again for reading - kts**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"I'll do it." Harold slapped his palms on the table for emphasis.

"You're sure?" Bella didn't look like she believed him.

"Absolutely. This is going to be fun," he smiled at her. We'd been completely honest with him about Mala's threats, but he seemed utterly unfazed.

"It's okay if you say no, Harold. We'll understand." I too couldn't believe how readily he'd agreed. "And if you do say yes, we can pay you or something. We were thinking of paying someone to make her a passport."

He scoffed at my offer. "Don't be ridiculous. I want to help. Bella needs to get back to Phoenix, and you, Edward," he put emphasis on both of our names, "you have to get her there. Unless you want me to drive her the whole way?" He sounded hopeful.

"I don't think so. We really just need help getting her over the border."

"It shouldn't be that difficult. If we can get Bella to look enough like Mattie, I can't imagine them giving us any trouble. If they do, I'll just start talking about my prostate, that always moves things along."

Bella and I both laughed. "It's true," Harold continued. "No one wants to hear an old person talk about their health. Once you start, everyone just hurries you up. It works better in the States, though. Down here people are too polite, too willing to let an old man ramble on. Drives me crazy sometimes." He took a sip of his coffee. "Okay, first things first. Let me go get her passport."

I watched him leave in his pink sundress and clogs, wondering if this was the right thing to do.

After he left the room, Bella leaned toward me, putting her hand in mine and giving me a reassuring smile. "It'll work, Edward."

"I hope so." I rubbed my thumb over her ring. We'd be able to take the rings off once we were over the border, our fake newlywed pose no longer necessary, the honeymoon over.

"Hey, come on. You look like you're a million miles away."

"Sorry." I shook my head a little, squeezing her hand.

"Here it is," Harold tromped back into the kitchen and put a passport onto the table. "She was sixty-eight when we applied for these, so you don't have to look eighty."

"Oh, huge relief. Only sixty-eight." Bella opened the passport. "Harold, she was beautiful."

"Yep. Until the day she died, she was the most beautiful woman I ever laid eyes on."

Bella handed me the passport while she asked Harold more questions about Mattie. I took a good look at the photograph, thinking that Bella would have to cut her hair and definitely keep her sunglasses on. Mattie's hair wasn't much longer than Harold's and her eyes were bright blue. She was smiling in the photo and Bella was right, she was beautiful. I couldn't help myself and briefly flipped through the pages. She and Harold had been world travellers. There were stamps from Europe, Asia, even Africa.

"You've been all over the world."

"Travel was our hobby. One trip a year, sometimes two."

"I'm impressed. Most people your age are happy to go as far as the local golf course."

"Mattie was the one who insisted. She said that seeing new places, trying new things, was what kept us young."

"That sounds like good advice," Bella smiled.

"It is. You two should take it." Harold got up and started clearing dishes. "Lets have a little more coffee and figure out how we're going to do this."

By late afternoon we'd come up with a plan that seemed workable. Bella would wear one of Mattie's pantsuits, and a scarf and sunglasses. When I told Bella she'd have to cut and dye her hair, she nodded without argument, but Harold surprised us by leaving the room again, returning with a storage box.

"These were Mattie's wigs. After her chemo treatments, she bought a few different styles. You can pick any of them."

"This is so weird," Bella finally said after trying on the third one. "I feel like I need to thank Mattie personally for letting me borrow her things."

"She'd be happy to help you if she were here. She'd have liked you."

"Thank you, Harold." She reached over and gave him a tight hug. "I really appreciate that."

He looked at me over Bella's shoulder, but I looked down at my coffee cup. It'd been harder than I'd expected to tell Harold that I'd been hired to kill Bella, that that's how we met, but he'd needed to know everything. He'd taken it in surprisingly good stride, only raising his eyebrows at me, but I wasn't anticipating that he'd bestow Mattie's approval on me as well.

"She'd have liked you, too, Edward. Mattie wasn't one to judge a person's past. She took people at face value, and what you're doing for Bella is more than most people would." He frowned a little as Bella released him from her hug. "So what exactly is your plan when you get to Phoenix?"

I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. "I don't know yet. Bella's supposed to be dead, and we don't trust the police. She can't just show up and start asking questions about her mother's death."

"But I thought the whole reason you came down here to Mexico was to give yourself enough time to think of something."

"It was." I smiled at Bella. "We got a little sidetracked."

"Well, you've still got time. You don't have to rush out of here tomorrow, although Friday would be a good day to go. Lots of traffic."

"Tomorrow's only Friday?" Bella's question prompted a nod from Harold and she turned to me, shaking her head. "I still can't believe it's only been a week," she said under her breath. She smiled at me, but her smiled was mixed with self-consciousness and something else - chagrin, maybe.

I smiled back and nudged her with my knee under the table. "A week and a day," I offered, trying to give her more justification.

"Oh, of course. That makes it respectable."

"Completely. We've set a new standard of respectability."

"A new definition, you mean," she grinned and nudged me back under the table.

Harold was watching us closely. "I knew you two weren't really married, by the way."

"What?" Bella's jaw dropped.

"How the hell, Harold?" I was just as surprised.

"Oh, it was obvious. I don't interact with a lot of the tourists down here, but I've become quite an expert on body language. I amuse myself sometimes by watching couples and trying to guess whose marriage is going to make it, and whose isn't. You two didn't touch each other, didn't kiss, so at first I thought you were going to be one of the latter, but then I saw how much you liked each other."

"And just how could you tell that?" Bella crossed her arms, fighting back a smile.

"When we were making dinner together, you had one eye on the patio door the whole time. Don't deny it, young lady." He shook his finger at her. "And you," he turned to me, "couldn't keep your eyes off her at dinner."

"One eye on the patio door the whole time, huh?" I smiled at Bella from underneath my eyebrows.

"Asks Mr. Couldn't-keep-his-eyes-off-me-at-dinner."

I nodded a touché.

"I was dying to ask what was going on with you two. Half the reason I'm so happy to see you again is to get an answer."

I couldn't help myself. "What's the other half?"

"To find out that things have changed." He winked at Bella.

"Harold!" The automatic way she rose to his teasing made me laugh out loud, and he laughed too, taking open pleasure in her pseudo-indignation. He really like her, his smile leveling out and then a new look coming over his face.

"Edward, is Bella going to be safe in Phoenix?"

That was the question, wasn't it? I shook my head. "I don't know. I'd much rather she didn't want to go back, but I understand her reasons." I looked at her. "If my mother'd been killed, I'd want to know why too." I thought about Esme for a second, imagined if something had happened to her and it hit me again how crucial her attention had been during my teen years. "Yeah, I'd definitely need to know."

"You'll have to be the one to find out why."

"Me?"

"Obviously."

He was right. As soon as he said it, I knew that's what I'd been thinking in the back of my head since Bella told me she wanted to know why Mala'd killed her mother. I'd have to find a safe place to put Bella, a hotel or something, and leave her there while I went out and played private detective.

"Like a private detective."

"But with no survivors, who would hire one?" Bella frowned.

"I could pretend I was working for her life insurance company."

Harold nodded appreciatively. "Your company just has a few unanswered questions about her death."

"But the official cause of death is suicide," Bella said, "and again, she isn't supposed to have any survivors."

"Life insurance benefits aren't just for family, anyone could have taken one out on her." Harold seemed to know what he was talking about. "And they might not want to pay up if they're not sure about the cause. They're not beholden to what the police say." He turned back to me. "That's a good idea, Edward."

I nodded my thanks and rubbed my jaw. The only problem with it was that I'd be putting myself out there, possibly drawing Mala's attention. It'd been a week since I was supposed to kill Bella, four days since he'd paid me. He must know by now that I hadn't returned to Chicago, but whether he was actively looking for me or not was anyone's guess. Most likely he wasn't, but if I turned up he'd be interested to know where. And if I turned up in Phoenix, asking questions about Bella's mother, he'd be on me fast.

I looked back up at Harold, who'd been watching me. He narrowed his eyes and looked me over.

"None of my old suits would fit you. You'll have to buy something to wear when you get to Phoenix."

I nodded.

"I'd give you my driver's license, but you'd never be able to pass for me."

"No, but thanks. I have some ID's I can use."

"Get some business cards. Cut your hair. Maybe some glasses."

"Yeah?"

"Rent a car. Stow your motorcycle. Or," his face lit up, "we can swap vehicles after we get across the border and I'll ride your bike back here. You can come and get it when you're done."

"Harold, we can't take your car all the way to Phoenix." Bella'd been listening to our exchange. "That's just too much."

"I don't care. I don't particularly like that car. I let Mattie pick it out." He turned back to me. "That's what I want for helping you, I want you to let me have your bike until you can get back here."

"I don't have a problem with that."

"But what about August?" Bella sounded exasperated. "How are you going to drive him to the beach on a motorcycle?"

Harold shrugged. "You have to try new things to stay young. He'll learn."

Bella groaned and put her head down on her arms. "Mattie, I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"Okay, let's assume you find out why Bella's mother was killed, what then?" Harold returned to me.

"We have to find a way for Bella to continue with her education."

"So, let me get this straight. The cartel and presumably the police want her to have disappeared, or to have never existed, rather."

"Right, but she's got a full scholarship waiting for her at ASU. Hopefully." I turned to Bella. "Classes would have started already, wouldn't they?" She nodded. "We need to find out if she can change her name or something and still use that scholarship."

"Of course she can. Students change their names all the time. Late starts are a little harder to explain, but a full scholarship – they should be accommodating."

"How do you know that?"

"I was a professor at UC San Diego. Paleontology."

"Dinosaurs?" Bella lifted her head.

"I started with dinosaurs, but I ended up with birds."

"Birds?"

"The reigning theory is that birds in many ways may be the descendents of the dinosaurs. The leg structure, the beak, even the feathers." He shook his head. "They might be right. They probably are. Birds." He sounded disappointed. "That was the hot new idea making the rounds when I retired. I'm glad I got out when I did."

"You don't like birds either?"

"It's not that I don't like them. They're fine, I guess. Some of their migration patterns are absolutely astonishing. It's just that when I was young and excited about my work, it was all about the history, the mystery, of these huge bones being dug out of the ground, the idea of our planet being once walked by these creatures that we could only barely conceptualize. Now, apparently, they're still with us, flying around and shitting on our heads."

"But that's really cool, to think about them that way."

Harold smiled at her fondly. "You sound just like one of my students. What's your scholarship in?"

"Veterinary Sciences."

"But not birds."

"No, at least not until now."

"Good. Keep your mind open."

"I will."

"You can easily change your name and still get your scholarship. I can put in a call to ASU, feel it out for you."

"You can?"

"Sure," he shrugged.

"Can she transfer her scholarship to another school?" I didn't like the idea of Bella staying in Phoenix.

"Not without pulling some strings."

"Do you have any?"

"Yes," he smiled at me. "Yes, I do."

We continued talking and planning through dinner and into the night, most of our conversation focused on what to do once we got to Phoenix. By nine we realized we'd covered everything we could think of, and Harold said he was going to bed.

"One last walk on the beach?" I asked Bella.

She nodded and kicked off her boots.

The sky was clear, the stars just as close as they'd been the last time we were here. I held Bella's hand as we wandered away from the lights of the house. We walked for a long time before Bella stopped and looked up at the sky.

"How are we ever going to repay Harold for helping us?"

"I don't know." Finding Harold had been like striking gold. "Maybe I'll let him keep my bike."

She smiled, her eyes still raised. In the night I couldn't make out their color, just the tiny reflections of the stars. "I bet he'd like that." She moved nearer, circling my waist with her arms, coming in for a hug. I pulled her to me tightly and looked over her head at the water. If our plan worked, at this time tomorrow we'd be half way to Phoenix. If it didn't work, we'd either be back here or worst case, Bella'd be in custody.

"You seem a million miles away again." Bella tilted her head up to look at me.

I ran my hand down her back. "Just wishing I could stop time."

"It's going to be fine tomorrow, Edward. Why are you so worried?"

"Crossing the border is the only contact you'll have with the authorities. I just don't want anything to go wrong."

"If I'd known it was going to be this nerve-wracking to get back into the States, I never would have suggested coming down here."

"Do you wish we hadn't?" I held my breath, waiting for her answer.

"No," she said immediately.

"Me neither." I looked back toward the ocean, silent for a few moments, thinking this could be our last night together. The realization was physically painful. "Was this real, Bella? Us?"

"Yeah. It was. It is." I felt her hands make fists in my shirt as she tightened her hold on me. "Is that what you're so worried about? That once we're back in the States, this will be over?"

I nodded, dropping my head to the side of hers so she could feel my answer. I knew it would be, but I'd just have to deal with it. I'd been so lucky to have a week with her. It'd been the best week of my life, but it wouldn't last. It couldn't.

"Edward, look at me." She let go of my shirt and brought her hands up to cup my jaw. "I can't see into the future any better than you. I don't know what's going to happen to us, but I know two things. I know how you feel about me, and I know how I feel about you. And they're the same."

"They are?"

"Yes, Edward." She reached up and kissed me gently.

I pulled her to me, hugging her as tightly as I could, kissing the top of her head, my mind swirling. If she'd have me in her life, what would our future be like? I could picture us living somewhere new, Bella in school while I rebuilt my career. We'd have to find a place that had a good vet school and a decent music scene. No, just a good vet school, that was the priority. I could teach guitar lessons wherever we lived, do something else to earn money. We could get a house, a house with a big bathtub so she could bathe while I shaved every morning.

I kissed her again, chuckling at how quickly I'd set us up in a domestic fantasy.

"What's so funny?"

"How quickly my thoughts get ahead of themselves sometimes. I'm already setting us up in a house with a big bathtub."

"That sounds nice." She smiled widely and twisted her arms around my neck, lifting herself up on her tiptoes to hug me.

I buried my face in her neck, kissing her throat and inhaling a deep breath off her skin. "But we need to stay focused. First we have to get through tomorrow." I loosened my hold. "We should start heading back."

She took my hand as we turned, our pace slow, neither of us in any hurry. Despite my words, my mind was still on the future. I kept stealing glances at Bella. She was so smart, so sweet, the kind of person who made the world a better place.

When we got the base of Harold's stairs, I stopped and cupped her cheek. She smiled up at me, a question in her eyes, wondering if I was still worried about tomorrow. I didn't answer, just leaned down to kiss her forehead. There was no way I was going to let her live the rest of her life afraid of Mala one day finding her.

I'd told her that she was my last job, but I'd been wrong. There was one more person I had to kill, and when I did, when she saw the real me, she'd come to her senses and leave.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Harold had been right; this was a perfect time to cross. Traffic was backed up at least a quarter mile ahead of us and even farther behind. Finding Bella in this crowd would be harder than spotting a needle in a haystack—no, in an unplowed hayfield. I looked over my shoulder at the motley assortment of vehicles behind me, the trucks, buses, and vans spread out throughout a sea of cars, and was reassured that those were going to be the targets of the border guards' interest. Anything that could carry extra people or drugs—that was all they'd have time to focus on. I hoped.

Harold and Bella were a couple of cars ahead of me, and I kept my eyes on them as we slowly approached the front of the line. When it was their turn, I watched Harold lean out the window and hand the guard their passports. I couldn't see Bella. She'd done an incredible job of picking an outfit that covered almost all of her skin without looking like she was hiding, even switching to a pair of Mattie's sunglasses that were more age-appropriate. I'd done a double take this morning when she'd first come out into the kitchen, her posture different, her shoulders a little hunched. I'd have looked right past her if I was searching for a twenty-three year old woman, not even giving her second appraisal. Now it all rode on her ability to keep her eyes hidden, her hands under her bag, and hopefully to not have to talk. If anything happened, and the guard got suspicious, the plan was that she would run back here to me and get on the bike. I'd either turn around and head back into Mexico or possibly make a move into the States. I took my eyes off the Buick and scanned the border. It didn't look good. The guards were all busy, but they were also all armed. I couldn't risk getting shot at with Bella behind me. I glanced over my shoulder again. Heading back would be tricky, too, but my bike would fit between the lanes of traffic and, despite the people who'd gotten out of their cars while they waited, I should be able to go fast enough to get out of here before anyone could catch us.

When I turned forward again, Harold and Bella were being waved through. They'd done it. They'd fucking done it. The cars ahead of me inched forward as I watched Harold cross into the States and pull over about twenty yards past the line. He got out and went back to the trunk, lifting the lid and fiddling with something inside. This wasn't part of the plan. They were supposed to keep driving until we met up at a gas station. What the fuck was he doing? They needed to get the hell out of here -

"Good evening, sir. Pull up, please."

It was my turn. I still had one eye on the Buick while I eased into the guard's station.

"Turn off your bike, please."

I did and reached into my pocket for my passport, handing it to the guard without a word.

"Anthony Masen. Denver." He looked up at me. "Business or pleasure?"

"Pleasure."

"Are you bringing back any items that need to go through customs?"

"No."

"Mind if I check?"

I looked at him for the first time. Fuck, I'd gotten a tight-ass. "No, of course not." I dropped the kickstand and dismounted, opening the pannier and stepping back.

He gave it a cursory search and then looked me up and down. I snuck a look at Harold and Bella. They were still there, Harold still fiddling in the trunk and Bella leaning out the window, watching me. Damn it, they'd stopped to ensure I made it through. They should have been a mile away by now.

"- in your pockets?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you have any weapons or contraband in your pockets?"

"No." I pulled my wallet and phone out of my jeans. Bella was lowering her sunglasses, trying to get a better look.

"Anything in your jacket pockets?"

"No. They're empty." I pulled them out. The guard who'd waved Harold and Bella through looked over his shoulder and noticed they'd pulled over.

"- in Mexico?"

"I'm sorry?" I looked back at the guard, who was watching me carefully. He didn't seem to like me, and I realized I wasn't helping matters by not paying attention.

"Where did you go in Mexico?"

"Mazatlan. I've always wanted to see it, and I had a few days off work so decided to take a road trip." I smiled at him, doing my best to reassure him that I was just a tourist.

"Are there any other compartments on your bike?" The guard closed the pannier and walked around it.

"No."

"How did you like Mazatlan?"

"Too touristy. Next time I'll try Baja."

"It's just as bad, but Cabo's nice."

Harold had pulled a hat out of the trunk and was making a big deal of shaking it out. My eyes darted to the guard who'd waved them through. He was finishing up with the car in front of him and turned to look at the Buick again. Bella brought her sunglasses down further, frowning in my direction, and even from here I could tell her eyes were dark-colored, definitely not blue.

_Fuck, Bella, put your goddamned sunglasses back on_, I yelled at her in my head. As if she heard me, she pushed them back up and retreated to the inside of the car, though I could tell she was still twisted around, watching.

"So, do you know anyone in Mexico?"

I didn't know what the guard was getting at, but I could only assume he was keeping the conversation going in the hope that I'd give him a reason to pat me down, obviously suspecting I had drugs on me somewhere. I wasn't worried about that, but a pat-down would find the gun in my boot, and that would definitely complicate things. I needed some of Bella's finesse right now, some of her quick inventiveness. I took a breath and smiled, channeling my inner Bella.

"I do now. I met a fellow optometrist in a bar, his name was Alberto. Luckily, he spoke English so we had quite a time together. It was kind of funny, here I was on vacation and I spent most of it talking shop." I laughed, trying to sound like it was the most ironic thing ever.

"Optometrist, huh?"

I shrugged. "People gotta see."

"I suppose they do."

"Did you know that most people have the wrong prescription in their eyeglasses? Or that if they have the right prescription, they have the wrong frame and the point of focus is off?" Where the hell did that come from?

"Interesting."

I watched his face begin to glaze over. "Yeah. People don't realize how important is it to get the right frame for their prescription. They want whatever's in style at the moment, you know? But it's really, really, important to get the right frame, or you can all sorts of problems with headaches, dizziness, sometimes even vertigo. One patient I had, he must have been seventy, he came in and his lenses were completely off-center -"

"Okay, sir, I think you can go." He handed me my passport. "Welcome back to the States and drive safely."

"Oh, okay." I acted surprised that he didn't want to hear more. "Thanks."

I got back on my bike and started it up. The guard who'd waved Harold through had started walking toward their car. I revved the engine and passed him, slowing at Bella's window to give her a jerk of my head, indicating that they needed to get going. She looked so relieved to see I'd made it over that my anger dissolved immediately.

Thirty minutes later I pulled into a gas station and parked near the convenience store, the Buick pulling up next to me.

Bella got out and ran up to hug me. "I was so worried when he asked you to show him your pockets. I thought you were getting arrested."

I pulled her to me, wanting to bury my face in her hair, but she was still wearing her wig and scarf. "He didn't like me, but you helped me get out of it."

"I did? How?"

"I'll tell you on the way to Phoenix." I patted her rear end. "Go get changed. It feels weird wanting to grope an old lady."

"Okay, tiger." She laughed and went back to the car, grabbing her change of clothes and heading inside to use the restroom.

Harold and I transferred the titles of our vehicles to each other and I moved my bag into the trunk. "Do you know how to ride a motorcycle? Want me to give you a quick lesson?"

"No. It's been a long time, granted, but I think I can manage. Anything I need to know about your bike, any quirks?"

I smiled as I gave him the keys. "No, it's been pretty solid. The chain was giving me problems but I had the lube system fixed, so it should be okay. If you hear an odd squeak when you're in gear, you might want to check it."

"Sounds like you know your bikes."

"Not that well, apparently. Bella caught it."

"Did she now." He handed me his keys. "She's a keeper, you know."

"I know."

"Are you going to be the one to keep her?"

I couldn't lie to him after everything he'd done for us. "I doubt it."

"Why's that?"

I looked over Harold's head into the empty distance. "She'll wise up."

"You're all she talked about on the way here. She insisted on waiting for you to cross. She said she couldn't go on not knowing if you weren't behind her."

I thought back to the night we'd faked her death, the night she'd climbed out of the ravine despite her fear of heights, needing to know I was behind her. I'd forgotten that, how she'd needed me. I swallowed and met Harold's eyes again. "I have to take care of Mala, get rid of him for good. Bella can't spend the rest of her life worrying about him showing up someday. After I do that … she'll realize she deserves better." I tried to keep my tone matter-of-fact, but something in my expression must have belied what I was feeling.

Harold put his hand on my arm and leaned in, tightening his grip and giving me a tiny shake. "Mattie was waiting tables when I met her, only had a high school education, but I always thought she deserved better than me, too. Now, I knew she was the one for me the minute I laid eyes on her, and I've seen the way you look at Bella." He lifted a finger at me for emphasis. "Whatever happens in Phoenix, whatever you do there, don't underestimate her by making the decision for her."

"I already know it."

He shook his head and let go of my arm. "Edward, you seem to know as much about women as you do motorcycles. Just because you can start one up doesn't mean you understand their inner workings."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Does anyone ever?"

"No, but that's what I'm trying to tell you. You have to have some trust."

I smiled, putting my hands into my pockets and shrugging. "Easier said than done."

"What's easier said than done?" Bella had reappeared behind me, slipping her hand through my elbow.

"Hey." It was good to see her looking like herself, and I pulled her closer as she tilted her face up me, arching a brow while she waited for my answer. "Harold and I were just talking about trusting people. I'm not very good at it."

"You're better than you think." She gave my arm a quick squeeze, then let go of me to put her bag of Mattie's clothes in the pannier. "Harold, we can never repay you for helping us. Thank you so much, for everything." She reached up to give him a big hug.

I watched Harold hug her back, closing his eyes, not answering for several moments. "You come back down and visit me as soon as you can, okay?" He sounded a little choked up. Letting go of Bella, he turned to me and extended his hand. When I gave him mine, he covered it with his other one. "Call me. Let me know what happens."

"I will. Thanks again. We couldn't have done it without your help." I returned his handshake with a squeeze for emphasis, then turned to Bella. "We should get going. It's a six hour drive."

She nodded and put her hand on the car door, then impulsively hugged Harold again. She whispered something in his ear and this time I definitely noticed him tearing up. He patted her back and smiled as he let her go. Bella and I got in the Buick and watched as Harold put on my helmet and got on the bike. He started it up and gave me a wink, put it in gear and headed south out of the parking lot.

Bella sniffed.

"You okay?" I glanced around the interior of the car, hoping to find some tissues.

"He's just so lonely. It makes me sad." She opened the glove compartment and pulled out a travel pack of Kleenex. "He misses Mattie so much." She wiped her nose.

I fiddled with the keys for a second and then put them in the ignition. "What did you whisper to him, or don't you want me to know?"

"I told him I wished he was my grandfather, and to thank Mattie for me."

"Shit, Bella, you're going to make me cry." I started the car instead, blinking a few times, my eyes feeling weird, and put it in reverse. As I was getting on the highway headed north, I thought of something else. "What did you whisper to him when we left his house the first time?"

"I thanked him for the nightgown." She laughed a little and looked out her window.

"Why did you do that?"

She turned back to me, reaching up to put on her seatbelt, making a gesture that I should do the same. "It helped me decide. About us."

"How?"

"When I woke up that morning and you were looking at me in it, I would have let you kiss me, would have let you touch me. I wanted you to do both, but you held back. You were letting me make the decision."

"So it was a test?"

"No." She chuckled. "It wasn't a test. That would have required planning and forethought. It was just one of those moments that could have gone either way, and you deferred to me." She crossed her legs and smiled, settling back into her seat. "It's very sexy when you do that."

I looked down at her crossed legs, so long and slim but with just the right amount of curve around her thighs. The way she had them tightly clasped, her jeans making a V at her crotch, was very sexy. "It's very sexy when you do that."

"What? Cross my legs?"

"Yep." I reached under my seat, trying to find the lever to give myself more legroom.

"Well, then." She tightened them even more, smiling as she put her head back and closed her eyes. "Six hours?"

"Six hours." I smiled, for once knowing what she was thinking.

The desert seemed endless, like we were going to be driving in this landscape forever, nothing but scrub brush and cactus as far as the eye could see. In a way that was good, though, because it let me get lost in my thoughts. With nothing to distract me outside and Bella resting silently next to me, I spent the first two hours of the drive thinking about trust. Harold's words were swimming in my mind along with everything Bella and I had been through together. She trusted me, but she shouldn't, because this was going to end badly. I didn't trust her to know her own mind, but maybe I should. Maybe I should give her that; maybe that was the one thing I could give her.

I'd been stuck in a mental loop for at least thirty minutes when Bella stirred and uncrossed her legs, sitting up and stretching. She looked out her window and then turned and smiled at me.

I didn't smile back. "I was twenty-one when I did my first hit."

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened, but she quickly shut it, looking out the windshield. She brought a hand up to her hair, fiddling with a strand. "Why did you do it?"

"To pay off a drug debt."

"You had drug debts?"

"Just one, but a big one."

She nodded, her lips pursing, her fingers working more quickly in her hair. "Tell me what happened."

I let out a deep breath. "I smoked a lot of pot in college, started dealing to support my habit, moved on to dealing harder stuff. Not just to other college kids but pretty soon anyone in Cambridge who wanted any."

"Hold on. Cambridge? England?"

"No, Massachusetts. Boston."

"Cambridge, Mass? Are we talking Harvard?"

I nodded. "I got in. Don't ask me how, but I hated it; it wasn't where I wanted to be." I glanced over at her. "I've never told anyone this before."

She turned toward me, her big brown eyes meeting mine. "You can tell me."

I swallowed, trying to remember the details. Some of them were a little hazy, but the one thing I remembered about those years was how miserable I'd been. I'd gone to college hoping to find something real but it'd seemed more fake than anything I'd experienced at home. "By my junior year I was the campus dealer. Everyone came to me. I sold thousands of dollars worth of shit every week. It was what I did. I never went to class, was on academic probation, but I didn't care. If you'd met me then," I smiled at her, "you would not have liked me."

"Good thing I didn't, then." She looked down into her lap.

"Yeah. I was a jerk, but I still had a plan. I was saving my money, thinking I was somehow still going to graduate and then take off, be free for once in my life. I was going to move to the west coast."

"You were?"

I nodded and laughed a little at how naïve I'd been. "I got as far as Chicago, so you can see how well that worked out."

"If you had so much money, how did you get in debt?"

"The easiest, oldest way. I was robbed. I kept all my cash in my dorm room and one night I came back from a deal and it'd been ransacked, down to every last dime bag, every last dime. See, the way it worked was that the guy I got the drugs from would give them to me without making me pay until I'd sold them. Then I'd go back with the money and get more. Suddenly I had no drugs to sell and no money to pay for the last delivery. When I tried to explain what happened, he told me it was no excuse, that I'd have to do something to pay him back."

"The hit."

"The hit. It was a rival, another dealer, in South Boston."

"Edward, what was it like?"

"What do you want me to say? It was like nothing. He was just another lowlife like the rest of us. When you get into the business, you know what you're risking." I took a breath. "It was also like everything."

Bella was fiddling with her ring. I watched as she slipped it off, trying it on her other fingers. "Until the second before I pulled the trigger, if anyone'd ever told me that I'd be capable of shooting someone, I'd have laughed in their face. But I did it. I pulled the trigger. I killed him." I looked out my window, trying not to remember too much about that night. "I got expelled shortly thereafter. Well, technically I quit. It was either quit or be expelled. I went home to Baltimore, moved back in with Carlisle and Esme, quit using, quit dealing, got a job painting houses, did that for a while."

"Why are you telling me now?"

"Something Harold said. Something you said earlier. I don't know, it's just what I've been thinking about since we started driving."

Bella put her ring back on her finger and folded her hands in her lap, her eyes out her window. "You just wanted me to know."

"You have to know." The sun was going down and the landscape was getting eerie. "If we were real, back in Mexico – if that was real, if this is real, you have to know."

She turned and looked at me, her eyes big and dark, her face pale in the fading light. "I was voted Class Bookworm in high school." Her tone was confessional.

"What?"

"You have to know what a nerd I am."

"Are you serious?"

"I know it's not the same thing. I'm not trying to make light of what you've done." She brought her feet up on the seat and rested her head on her knees. "It's just … I appreciate you telling me and I want to meet you halfway."

"Halfway." I laughed. The more I thought about it, the harder I laughed.

"It's not funny." Bella was trying not to smile.

I looked over at her, still laughing. "It's the funniest thing you've ever said. Halfway."

She started laughing too, hiding her face in her knees, her shoulders shaking. "Well, it's kind of bad, you have to admit it."

"Oh, it's horrible. This changes everything."

"It does?"

"I can't be seen with a class bookworm. I have a reputation as a college drop-out to uphold."

"I was afraid of that." She circled her legs with her arms and turned her face toward me. "So it's over now?"

"I don't know, Bella." I shook my head. "That's some serious shit. I mean, I knew you were smart, but a bookworm? What is that, someone who likes to read?"

"Yeah, you drop-out." She put her legs down and smirked. "Didn't they teach you anything at Harvard?"

"They tried." I wiped my eyes, still chuckling. "They tried," I repeated with a sigh. I smiled at her. "I wasn't very receptive."

"Big word." She raised an eyebrow and crossed her legs.

"Nor was I attentive."

"Ooh." She stretched, arching her back. "Go on."

"I found academia pretentious."

"Oh my." She pulled her hair over her far shoulder, leaning her head back again the seat, her eyes closed.

"The professors monomaniacal."

"Mmm." She rolled her head toward me and bit her lip, opening her eyes and looking at my jaw.

"The students narcissistic." I watched her lick her lips. "The curricula pedantic."

"Jesus fucking Christ." She undid her seatbelt and leaned toward me, cupping my jaw and turning my face so she could kiss me. "Curricula," she murmured again my lips.

"Curricula." I drew the word out in a low voice, making it sound dirty, while I reached up for the back of her head, kissing her hard but fast, then letting her go so I could watch the road.

She stayed next to me for a minute, her hand on my leg. I covered it with mine, rubbing my thumb over her ring. She looked at the dashboard clock. "How much farther?"

"At least three more hours."

"We don't have to get all the way to Phoenix tonight, do we?"

I looked at her in surprise. "No, I guess we don't."

"Let's stop sooner."

I brought her hand up to my mouth and kissed the back of it, lingering. "If that's your inclination, I wholeheartedly concur."

She groaned as she returned to her seat, rebuckling her belt and crossing her legs tightly.

**A/N: Hey everyone. Sorry for the delay on this chapter, especially after the roll I was on last week (the week before?). My beta has family issues of her own to deal with right now, but she's found someone to help out - Simaril will be beta-ing the rest of the story. Thanks again, Simaril!**

**Hope you guys liked the chapter ... and thanks again for reading! - kts**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

We were only a few miles outside of Yuma and I pulled into the first motel I saw from the highway. "Do you care where we stop?"

"No, not at all." She leaned forward and peered out the windshield.

The Yuma Motor-Inn was a dive. I turned the car around. "We can do better than this."

"Edward, I seriously don't care."

"I do." I wanted to take her someplace decent. I wouldn't be able to afford the most luxurious accommodations in Phoenix, but I could damn well spring for the best Yuma had to offer. I got back on the highway and continued downtown. Ah, here we go. A Radisson on one side of the road, a Hilton on the other. I'd be paying more for a weight room and pool we wouldn't be using, but she'd get a decent room, something with a nice bathtub. I pulled into the Radisson because it was on my right.

Checking in was easy. I had a credit card under the name of Anthony Masen and didn't care anymore if it was traceable. In fact, I hoped it was. Come and get me, Mala, I thought as I watched the clerk swipe the card. Come and fucking get me. Bring your bodyguards, bring your whole cartel. I wrapped my arm around Bella. Bring it on, motherfucker, I thought as I kissed her head. You are never going to touch this woman again. She's mine.

We rode the elevator in silence, our hands clasped. When we got to our room, I let her enter first. She stopped, taking it in. It was the nicest place we'd had yet, a huge king sized bed in the center of the room, a flat-screen TV on the wall opposite, a kitchenette off to the right.

"I can make my own coffee tomorrow morning," she looked over her shoulder at me, smiling.

I dropped our bag and spun her around, cupping her face and bending to kiss her. I wanted her so much in that instant, even more than the first time I'd kissed her. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held her tightly, my emotions almost overwhelming me. Part of it was relief that we'd gotten her over the border safely, but mostly it was the way she'd accepted what I'd told her in the car without judging, without trying to justify my actions, just letting me tell her. I felt like a weight had come off me, one I hadn't even know I'd been carrying, like if I didn't hold on to Bella tightly enough, I might actually leave the ground. "Do you want to order room service," I murmured against her lips, "or need to use the bathroom?"

I felt her lips turn up in a smile. "No, why?"

"Because I want you naked in bed as soon as possible."

"Oh," she breathed out, her hands slipping into my hair. "Is now soon enough?"

"No." I picked her up and carried her to the bed, putting her down gently. As much as I wanted her, I was determined to go slowly this time, to show her what she meant to me. I pulled off her boots first, running my hands up her legs until I got to the hem of her shirt. I pulled it up slowly, keeping my eyes on hers and eased it over her head. She was wearing a lacy blue bra, the color perfection against her skin. I slipped a finger under one of the straps and eased it off her shoulder, bending to follow its path with my mouth. I did the same with the other strap and then kissed my way down to the spot between her breasts that I loved so much. I could feel her breathing already picking up and I pulled away, spreading my hand over her stomach, marveling at her pale skin, how soft and warm she was. With my other hand, I undid her button and zipper, my eyes back on hers as I pulled her jeans down. When they were off, I stood back to admire her, tracing one finger up the outside of her leg to the edge of her matching panties.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"

She gave me an embarrassed smile and a tiny shake of her head.

"I'll show you."

I got rid of my clothes and lay down next to her, running my hand up her thigh, over her hip, into the sweet curve of her waist. Her bra had a clasp in front, and I eased it open, slowly pulling the fabric away, lightly tracing over her breast with my fingers open, cupping it as if it were the most fragile, delicate thing I'd ever held. I bent over her, burying my face in her neck, kissing her throat, her ear, and was rewarded with a small groan. I felt her put her hands on my shoulders, then clasp them behind my neck, holding me to her. I worked my way up her chin to her mouth, keeping my kisses light and teasing, the way she liked. She opened her mouth for me and I kissed her harder, the way I liked, then started kissing my way back down the other side of her neck.

When I got to her breasts, I sucked one of her perfect little nipples into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it, loving how she arched up to me, hearing her take in a rapid breath and then let out a quiet moan when I moved to the other one. Oh, you are so mine, I thought as I buried my face between her breasts, inhaling deeply before I kissed my way down her stomach. Mine. I fingered the edge of her panties, beginning to lower them, when I felt her tense.

"You don't have to do that." She sounded embarrassed.

"I want to." I looked up at her. "What's wrong?"

"That doesn't work on me ..." She was biting her lip, looking apologetic. I rose back over her and kissed her lightly.

"Please let me. If you don't like it, I'll stop." I nuzzled her neck, keeping my mouth open. "Please, Bella?"

She took a deep breath, but then I felt her nod and I slowly worked my way back down her body, worshipping her as I went. I eased off her panties and opened her legs, touching her first with my fingers, rewarded with a high-pitched sigh. I knew she liked my fingers so I only touched for the first few seconds, but then I couldn't hold back any longer and reached down for my first taste.

Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It should be illegal for Bella to taste this good, illegal for her to be able to walk around all day living her own life when clearly she should be compelled by law to be open for me like this at all minutes of the day. Every minute of every fucking day. I licked again, sucking lightly on her clit, groaning when a wave of desire washed over me, feeling my dick harden immediately but trying so hard to be gentle. Every instinct in my body said to push into her, but I held myself back. Instead, I put both of my hands on her thighs and gripped them tightly, channeling my energy there while I toyed with her clit, then licked the whole length of her.

"Oh!" She arched up to me, spreading her legs even further. My god, she tasted divine. My goddess. My one. Mine. All this sweet nectar, just for me. So much nectar, so wet. The more I licked, the more I got. This was how I was going to spend the rest of my life, doing this, worshipping Bella. She was so swollen now, opening up to me like a flower. I could feel her thighs trembling and remembered how she'd slowed me down the other night. I eased back a little and just tasted, just savored. Her hand was in my hair, stroking, matching my strokes, and she started rocking her hips up into me, pushing my head down with her hand. I glanced up at her and almost lost it. Her head was thrown back, her eyes closed, her mouth open, her back arched. Fuck, if there was one thing she was going to remember about me, it was going to be this. I was going to give her the best fucking head of her life. She was going to come, and come hard. I slipped a finger inside of her. She was so tight; I had to press myself down onto the bed, telling myself that this was about her, that my dick could wait. I wanted to be inside her so badly, wanted to feel her writhing underneath me, wanted her tight little pussy clamping down on my cock instead of my finger, but the moans she was making, the thrusts with her hips, she was so close – oh fuck it, she was more than any man could resist.

I pulled back. "Reach for me."

She opened her eyes, her head thrashing. "Edward!"

"I'm right here. Reach for me so I know you want me."

"Of course I want you!"

"Prove it. Reach for me."

She groaned and lifted her hips even higher, opening her legs even wider, giving herself to me completely. "Oh, fuck, what you do to me, Bella." I crawled up her gorgeous body and pulled her hips down to meet my first thrust.

"Edward!" She threw her head back again, her arms immediately around me, her nails digging into my shoulders.

"Fuck!" She was already tightening around me, she'd been that close before I'd entered her. She brought her legs up behind me and linked her ankles, pulling me in even deeper, holding me to her with every muscle in her body. I only managed a couple of thrusts before she tensed and groaned, her entire body trembling under mine. I cupped her face and turned it to watch her come, her expression one of almost pain. I kissed her perfect lips and thrust again, watching her mouth form a silent O, her eyelids fluttering. Again. Her hands were on the tops of my shoulders, her fingers shaking. Again, harder this time, my body angled perfectly to hit her clit. "Oh my god," she moaned, "oh my god."

"Come again," I panted in her ear, "come again, with me." Her legs slipped back down to the bed and her hands moved to the back of my neck. She started meeting me thrust for thrust, her hips moving in that wicked pattern that drove me crazy. I was so close I wouldn't be able to wait for her much longer. "Now, Bella, come now!" I managed to get the words out through gritted teeth as the first wave washed over me. "Ohhhh," I let out a long groan as I released inside her, each wave stronger than the last. She made a sound I hadn't heard before and tightened her fingers in my hair, her hips locking onto mine. I could feel her pussy rippling with her orgasm, or maybe it was from mine - I couldn't tell our bodies apart any more. It felt like we were one pounding heart, one mouth gasping for breath, one set of trembling limbs. We lay together for what felt like a lifetime, both of us wanting to make it last.

"It is you," she finally whispered, so quietly I barely heard her.

"What?" I moved my weight fractionally off to the side, making sure she had enough room to breathe.

"Me." Her eyes were still closed, her lips parted, her chest flushed above her breasts.

"I'm you?" I put my hand on her chest, on the flush, enraptured with her skin.

She opened her eyes and I was struck again by their chocolate depths. She was silent for another minute, looking at me so carefully, so entirely, that it felt like she was seeing my soul. "It wasn't Mexico or the fake honeymoon. It was you." She brought her hand up and lightly stroked my wrist, closing her eyes again. "It's you."

I pulled out of her and rolled onto my side, bringing her with me, cradling her in my arms, my beautiful, delicious woman. She looked up at me, reading my eyes, bringing a finger up to trace the edge of my temple. "This is good, Edward. Don't second-guess it."

"I ruin things. I'll ruin this."

"No you won't. I won't let you."

"You won't let me?" I couldn't help but smile, she sounded so determined.

"No," she smiled back. "You're stuck with me." She let out a long sigh and stretched her legs. "Sorry, sucks to be you."

I shook my head in fake dismay. "It's my bad karma."

"Yep."

"Look what it brought me, a naughty little bookworm."

She raised an arm around my neck, pulling me down for a kiss, wrinkling her nose. "You really like doing that?"

"God, yes." I back away a little. "Did you like it?"

She smiled and nodded, looking a little embarrassed. "With you."

"Do you want a glass of water?"

She nodded again and I got up to wash my face. When I returned she was under the sheets looking at the room service menu. I handed her the cup and got in bed next to her, putting my arm around her shoulder and pulling her close enough so that I could read it too. "Let me know if you want me to tell you what any of these words mean."

"Funny girl." I kissed her shoulder.

"Just trying to be helpful," she laughed, settling in against me. "That reminds me. You said I helped you get across the border."

"Oh, that. I was so mad at you for stopping that I wasn't paying attention to the guard. He didn't like me, wanted an excuse to pat me down. I used your technique, and a little of Harold's. Somehow I know something about optometry."

"Optometry?"

"Yeah. It was weird because it wasn't anything you'd said but all of a sudden I was pulling this stuff out of my ass like I knew it." Where had I gotten that from? Oh, fuck. From Esme. "I got it from Esme."

"Your mom?"

"Yeah." I put my head back against the pillow, letting the memory come back to me. She'd gotten new glasses when I was maybe fifteen and started having problems with her balance. The doctors hadn't found anything and it wasn't until she went to her annual eye exam that her ophthalmologist discovered her lenses weren't centered. "That's weird. It was about some glasses she got when I was fifteen."

"You should thank her."

"I haven't talked to her in years."

"No?"

"Carlisle wanted me to go back to school, but when I said no, he kicked me out of the house. I think he thought I was a bad influence on the girls. I moved to Chicago about a month later and haven't really been in touch with any of them."

"For seven years?"

"Esme called me a few times, on Christmas and my birthday, and once to see if I'd come back for the girls' high school graduation, but I don't know …" I rubbed my jaw. "It was just easier for me to let that part of my life go, to start over, I guess."

Bella put the menu down and turned to look at me. "How did you -" She stopped herself. "Never mind. We don't have to talk about this if you don't want to."

"No, it's okay. You can ask me anything." I gave her a small smile. She reached under the sheet to put her hand on my leg. "How did you keep working as a - as a hitman, if that first job was to pay off a debt?"

"The guy I did it for, my ex-dealer, called me in Baltimore about six months after I'd dropped out. He had another job he wanted done and offered me a shit-load of money. Things were already going sour with Carlisle and I knew I couldn't live there much longer, but painting houses wasn't paying very well. I decided to do one more job and use the money for the inevitable move."

"And after that?"

I sighed and she gave my knee a gentle squeeze. "I'd been in Chicago for almost year when I got a call from Mala. He told me to call him Señor, said he'd gotten my number from my ex-dealer, said that he was looking for a freelancer. I was really struggling back then, having a hard time getting gigs and when I did, the pay was even worse than painting. I'd used up the money I'd made on the second hit and was on the verge of quitting music altogether and looking for a real job when he called." I let out a breath. "Was it a hard decision?"

"Yeah, of course it was. Before he called, I'd assumed that was the end of it, that I'd have to live with two deaths on my hands, but they'd both been dealers so I somehow managed to compartmentalize what I'd done as something in my past, something that wasn't the real me. But I said yes. Obviously."

"Because you needed the money."

"I could have gotten a real job." I rubbed my face. "Fuck, I feel like having a cigarette for the first time in years."

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. It's just that this is what I mean about being a bad person. I could have said no, but I didn't. I could have quit working for Mala any time, but I didn't. At first he had an uncanny ability to call when money was short, but I kept saying yes even when I had savings. I always could have said no, but I always said yes."

"You did say no finally."

"Yeah, but it took you."

"You did say no, though."

"I guess I did." I played with the ends of her hair. I was sure she was busy justifying my behavior in her mind, making it not necessarily okay but understandable. I also knew I was giving her the impression that I was done killing and I was sorely tempted to be honest and tell her I was going to take out Mala, but something made me hold back. It was one thing to talk about the hits I'd already done, but to tell her I was going to kill again – I just couldn't lose her yet. Every minute with her was precious.

She leaned back against me and turned her beautiful face up, her eyes searching mine. "You're still worrying about something."

"What do you mean?"

"You've told me and I'm not running for the hills, but you're still worried. You get this little crease right here." She smoothed her fingertip between my eyebrows.

"Damnit, woman. Get out of my head already." I tried to keep my tone light, bending down to kiss her. I liked how she could read my mind, but I didn't want her to guess my plans for Mala. She cupped my neck and kissed me back, hard.

"It's okay, Edward. You'll tell me eventually, when you're ready. Now, let's order some food."

When our meals arrived we sat together on the bed to eat and I asked her to tell me about her mother.

"You'd have liked her," she smiled sadly. "She was a lot like you in some ways."

"How so?"

"She had the same habit of always looking over the horizon, as if she was searching for something better."

"I do that?"

"Constantly." She looked up at me, her face a little drawn. "It's not a bad thing, but it reminds me of her."

I put my plate down and watched her take another bite of salad. "Did she ever find what she was looking for?"

Bella tilted her head, giving my question serious thought as she ate. "No, I don't think so." She swallowed and gave me another sad smile.

I reached up and cupped her jaw, tracing her cheekbone with my thumb, running it down her nose and over her lips. "I did." I watched her expression change from sadness about her mother to that one I hadn't been able to read before. This time I recognized it because it must have been the same as mine. She loved me, too.

**A/N: Yay, another chapter done - all credit goes to Simaril. I deliberately tried to slow the pace down while they were in Mexico (for honeymoon purposes), but things pick up again once they get to Phoenix - at least, that's the idea :)**

**Hopefully, we'll have the next chapter up soon - thanks for reading! kts**


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Fuck, it was hot.

Even before we left Yuma, the temperature was pushing ninety. We were fine in the car with the air-conditioning on, but I hated the claustrophobic feeling I always got when I was closed up in one. I missed my bike, missed the pine-scented wind, missed Bella riding behind me, her arms around my waist, her head on my shoulder.

In fact, the only advantage to traveling by car that I could see, other than making us less conspicuous, was that we could talk to each other, but even that wasn't going well. We'd started out with Bella telling me more about her parents, but when we eventually started going over what we were going to do when we arrived and I said that I thought she should stay in the hotel room, she flatly refused.

"No way, Edward. I was stuck at Juanita's for a month, and I am not sitting alone by myself all day again."

"Bella, be reasonable. We can't risk someone recognizing you."

"I'll wear a disguise. And don't 'be reasonable' me – I am being reasonable." She crossed her arms over her chest. "There's no way I can sit in a hotel room all day while you're out there on your own. It's unreasonable of you to ask that of me."

I got her point, but there was also no way I could deliberately draw out Mala if she was with me. I'd decided that instead of using a fake name, I'd just use my own. I hoped that would get his attention, but it would also get Bella's, and she was smart enough to figure out what I was doing. Hell, the way she was in my head already, she'd figure it out immediately. And if she was with me when he found me – no, she had to stay at the hotel.

"It's for your own safety."

"Bullshit. I told you I'd disguise myself. This is about you."

"Me?"

"You're turning back into a wolf. I can feel it."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

She turned to me, her gaze level. "What are you planning that you're not telling me?"

"Nothing." The lie was out of my mouth before I could stop it.

She turned her head. "I thought we were partners."

"We are." I put my hand on her leg, willing her to look back at me, to forgive me. She put her hand over mine, but kept her eyes out her window. Maybe I was being unreasonable. The first place we were planning to go was to Renee's house, and surely no one would see her there. "Okay. You're right. I won't ask you to stay in the hotel the whole time."

She turned, her fingers tightening around mine, a small smile playing around her mouth but not reaching her eyes.

We'd used my phone last night to find a Residence Inn and had made a reservation using another one of my fake ID's, one I hadn't used yet. I didn't know what I'd been thinking when we'd checked into the Radisson, hoping that Mala could locate where I was staying. If he were able to do that, and he found Bella – well, maybe she was safer out with me than by herself. There was only so much I could plan, I realized. If I botched this and Mala took me out before I got to him, the most important thing was that he not find out Bella was still alive. Instinctively I felt she'd be safer if she stayed behind at the hotel, but who knew? Maybe that would be the first place he'd look for me.

Or maybe, I thought, he wouldn't be looking at all. Maybe all this worry was for nothing. Maybe we could snoop around in Phoenix without drawing his attention – he could easily have already forgotten about us, his cartel's plan to legitimize itself consuming all of his energy. In that case, what would I do? I was holding Bella's left hand and I rubbed my thumb over her ring. I knew we hadn't said any vows to each other, but I felt like she was mine to protect and the only way to do that was to get rid of Mala. That meant if he didn't show up in Phoenix, I'd have to hunt him down.

I lifted Bella's hand to my mouth and kissed it, apologizing to her in my head for what I was going to do. She tightened her fingers around mine and smiled wider, shaking her head a little as she looked out the windshield. If she was reading my mind right now, she was answering me with reassurance that she wouldn't let me ruin this. I kissed her hand again, hoping she was right.

We got to the Residence Inn around two. Our room was utilitarian, business-bland, but acceptable. It had a kitchen area, which was the most important thing, and a decent-sized bathtub, but I couldn't blame Bella if she didn't want to spend the next week or two holed up in here. It would drive me crazy, too, and I hadn't just spent a month at Juanita's. Okay, change of plans. Bella could come with me unless I felt that it was too dangerous – that it was too likely we'd either run into the police or Mala. Otherwise, she was right, Phoenix was a big city and she didn't know very many people. If she wore a cap and sunglasses, she should be fine.

"I'll start the grocery list," Bella offered while I finished unpacking our bag. She found a notepad in a drawer by the television and brought it into the kitchen, opening a few of the cupboards. "There's already some coffee here, but it's not very good."

"Only the best for you," I smiled as I came out of the bathroom, having put my shaving kit on the counter and her bathwash by the tub. "Put it on the list, and you'll need a baseball cap, or a floppy hat or something."

She smiled while she wrote that down, knowing it meant she'd won her point about not staying in the room. "Are you going to get a haircut and glasses like Harold suggested?"

"I don't know yet. What do you think?"

"I think it's a good idea. Hopefully Mala thinks I'm dead. You're the one he might be looking for."

All the more reason not to try to disguise myself, but if Bella was with me, maybe I'd better. I nodded. "I probably will, then, but we can do that stuff tomorrow."

Bella added a few more things to her list and then we drove to Renee's house. It was in an older neighborhood, with the houses a good distance apart. Although it was a Saturday afternoon and it was likely that her neighbors were home, Bella was sure we could get in through the back unseen. I parked down the street and we got out, the heat hitting me in the face like a goddamned frying pan. How did people live down here? No one seemed to be outside, I thought, as I scanned down the block. That must be how.

"This is the way I ran the night she was shot." She took my hand we entered a narrow alley. Most of the yards had high fences so she was right, it would have been unlikely for any neighbors to see us. When she got to her mom's fence, she poked her finger through an open knot in the wood and pulled something on the other side, swinging the gate open quickly and quietly. A second later we were in the backyard. She stooped and lifted a flower pot, coming back up with a key that she put into the lock on the patio door.  
>She slid the door open and stepped inside. "Oh my god."<p>

I pulled the door closed behind us and put my hands lightly on her shoulders, not sure if she wanted to be touched while she was reliving the night of her mother's death, but she leaned back against me, closing her eyes. I put my arms around her and she covered them with hers, holding me to her. I kissed the top of her head and she turned her head into my chest, her eyes squeezing tighter, a tear escaping down her cheek. Turning her in my arms, I held her while she cried, not saying anything, just letting her get it out.

"I'm sorry, I'm getting your shirt wet," she finally said with a sniff.

I just pulled her closer, letting her know it didn't matter.

"It's harder being back here than I thought it'd be."

I ran my hand over her hair. "Do you want to come back later? Or should I come back by myself?"

She shook her head. "I'll be all right. Just give me another minute."

"Take all the time you need."

She leaned into me again, making fists in my shirt. I rubbed her back while she pulled herself together. Finally she lifted her head and looked around the room. "It looks exactly the same. I don't know what I expected."

"This is really nice." I was guessing we were in the family room, judging by the sectional sofa and television.

"Mom took a lot of pride in this house. It was the first one she bought on her own."

I didn't know anything about decorating, but I could tell someone had made an effort. There were paintings on the walls, a thick rug on the floor, matching pillows on the sofa. I could picture Bella watching movies here with her mom after a long week of school and work, and I hugged her again. "I'm so sorry, Bella."

She looked up at me through her wet eyelashes and reached up to put her arms around my shoulders, pulling herself up to bury her face in my neck. "Thank you," she whispered. "You're the first person to say that."

I kissed her cheek as she let me go, making for a powder room. I heard her blow her nose and turn on a faucet as I began wandering around. There was a work area in one corner, the bulletin board on the wall covered in photographs and I studied it with a smile. They were all of Bella at various stages of her childhood. She'd been a cute baby, an adorable little girl, and yes, a rather nerdy-looking teenager, but still pretty. There was one of her in a cap and gown, flanked by two beaming adults.

"I see you found the Bella shrine."

"Are these Charlie and Renee?" I tapped the graduation photo.

"Yeah."

"They look very proud of you." She'd told me that losing her father to a heart attack when she was nineteen was one of the hardest things she'd ever gone through, and I realized looking at the photograph that he would be gone within a year of it being taken. I looked at his face more closely and could see the kind of no-nonsense man she'd described, the cop who'd taught her self-defense, but there was a little smirk in his eyes and I could also easily imagine the joker in him, the man who'd given his daughter a jar of worms to use as fishing bait on her 13th birthday. "You have your dad's eyes."

"Do I?"

"And your mom's smile." I tapped another photo, this one of a younger Bella perched on a fence in front of an ocean. Her mom was next to her in the photo, their smiles almost identical. "When was this?"

"That was the first time I visited Mom in Florida. I don't remember how old I was." She reached up and unpinned the photo. "This was in '98, so I was ten." She ran her her thumb over the date stamp in the corner, then put it back up and turned toward the desk. "The computer's gone."

"I'm not surprised. Did your mom have a laptop?"

Bella bent and started opening drawers. "She usually kept it charging in the dining room. Everything's been taken." I could see over her shoulder that the drawers were empty.

"The police probably took it all."

"Not Mala?"

"He didn't have time that night, and the police were the next ones here."

She frowned and started out of the room. I watched her head upstairs and I walked through the rest of the lower level. There was no laptop in the dining room, again not a big surprise. I hadn't really expected to find anything of value here, but it had seemed like the logical place to begin. At least I could maybe get a better feel for what kind of person Renee'd been. She was kind of messy, I discovered in the kitchen, her drawers and cupboards cluttered and unorganized. Even if she had left something important behind, it was going to be hard to find.

"All my stuff is gone," Bella said, joining me a few minutes later. "Do you think the police have it?"

"Probably, if they haven't destroyed it."

"Fucking hell. I'd just bought my textbooks."

"We'll get you new ones," I smiled over at her. "That's too bad, though."

"No kidding. There goes $500."

"No, I mean about your stuff. I was kind of hoping your ID would still be here, even though it was a long shot."

"Oh, that's here. It's in the linen closet."

"What?"

"At least it should be. Let me go check."

I followed her back upstairs. "Why is it in the linen closet?"

"That was another thing my dad taught me. Don't keep your valuables in obvious places, like your jewelry in your underwear drawer. It's the first place thieves look. I've always kept my purse in the linen closet, both at my dad's house and here." She opened a door in the hallway and lifted a stack of towels, pulling out a small woven bag and unzipping it. "Driver's license, student ID, credit card, debit card, library card, yeah, it's all here. Hey, twenty bucks." She fished out the bill and tried to give it to me.

"Are you kidding?" I laughed, putting my hands up in the air. "I don't want your money."

"But I owe you so much." She tried to tuck it into my pocket.

"You don't owe me anything." I twisted away, still laughing.

"Edward," she said very seriously, "you have to let me pay you back somehow, some day."

"We'll work something out. Maybe I'll get a dog."

"A dog?"

"Yeah. You can provide me with a lifetime of free veterinary care once you get your degree."

"Whose lifetime, the dog's or yours?"

"Mine of course," I bent down to kiss her. "If you get sick of me, you could kill my dog."

"That won't happen."

"Which?"

"Either one." She put her arms around my waist and hugged me. I felt her stick the twenty dollars in my back pocket, but I let her think she was getting away with it. I'd use it to buy her something later.

"Did your mom hide her purse, too?"

"No, she thought my dad was ridiculous. She always left her purse on the kitchen counter."

"Oh, well. It's gone then too."

"Dad would be loving this right now if he were here."

I cupped her face and traced my thumbs under her chocolate eyes, smiling. "He kind of is."

We did a quick check of Renee's bedroom but once again didn't find anything. Either someone else had already ransacked her closet or she really was messy, but there was no way we'd be able to find anything without going through it item by item, and that would take at least an entire day. We'd already begun to suspect that she must have crossed paths with Mala's cartel somehow through her job, and Bella confirmed that her mother's laptop was probably where she kept all her work-related files, so we called it a day after another hour of fruitless searching.

Bella fit her old purse into her new one as we were leaving and then went over to the bulletin board and took down the graduation photo, slipping it into her purse as well. "What's going to happen to all my mom's stuff?"

"I don't know."

"And the house itself?"

"I suppose there are lawyers working on it. I can try to find out."

"Would you?"

"Of course."

"Can you find out where she's buried, too?" Bella's eyes teared up again and she put her hand up to her mouth. "I can't believe I only just thought of that," she whispered.

"Hey, come on." I took her arm and bent down, trying to make eye contact with her. "Stop being so hard on yourself. You've been through a lot." She met my eyes but didn't seem convinced by my words. "Bella, obviously your mom loved you -" I gestured to the shrine "- and you've told me yourself how much you loved her. That's all that matters, not the order in which things occur to you."

"You're right, I know," she nodded, turning around and looking at the room. "I think a part of me was hoping she was somehow still alive. But she isn't. She's really gone. It's just sinking in for real now."

I watched her face as her eyes scanned the room, her fingers playing with the strap of her purse, her expression finally settling on a kind of sad resignation. "There's no way we can stay here, is there?"

I shook my head.

"Then we should get going," she finally said, slipping her hand into mine. "We still have to get groceries."

When we got back to our room, I told Bella that she should go watch TV or take a bath, that I'd make dinner, but she shook her head.

"You know how I am. I like to be moving around when I'm thinking."

"Can I help at least?"

"Sure. See if you can find a knife and a cutting board." She handed me an onion.

We made the spaghetti together and ate at the little dining room table. Bella'd been quiet while cooking but she smiled at me when I poured her a glass of wine.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"I mean for everything. Staying and helping me do this." She took a sip of wine. "I don't think I could have gone back to the house without you."

I looked up from my plate, about to say something generic about it being the least I could do, but she was smiling at me that way that warmed me from the inside out. "You're helping me, too, Bella."

"I am?" She frowned, confused.

"More than you know." It was true. Doing this for her, helping her find out what had happened to her mother, was beginning to feel like making a kind of atonement. None of my targets had been innocent like Renee, but they'd all had families, people who cared about them and would never know for sure why they'd been killed. If I could find some kind of justice for just one of the cartel's victims, I felt like it evened out some of the bad stuff I'd done. Not all of it, but enough to make a small difference. "Doing this for you is my halfway."

"Well, good." She smiled, not asking me to elaborate.

"It is good." I smiled back at her.

When we went to bed that night, I put my arm around her and pulled her up onto my shoulder, playing with her hair while her fingers drifted over my chest.

"I know I don't have the right to ask any more favors … " She looked up at me.

"But … "

"But would you call Esme some day soon, just to say hi, to let her know you're okay?"

"How could I say no to that?" How could I say no to anything she asked of me? "I'll call her tomorrow."

"Thank you." She burrowed back into my chest and it wasn't long before I felt her breathing even out. I kissed her head and played with her hair for another thirty minutes before I finally closed my eyes and let sleep overtake me. It didn't surprise me, however, when I woke up in the middle of the night and discovered we'd somehow changed positions. She was now cradling my head and I'd sought out the spot between her breasts. I pulled her closer and went back to sleep.

**A/N: Ah, you guys leave me the nicest reviews. Thank you all _so_ much. Simaril is on fire - she's almost done with the story - which means it's my bad if I don't update daily at this point. If I don't, it's either because I didn't have time or I decided to do some rewriting. I felt like I wrapped up ASB too quickly and worry that I did the same here, so I might take a step back and see if there's more I should include. However, I'm also starting to think about a third story ... so who knows? Not me.**

**Anyway, thank you again, everyone who's reading, favoriting, alerting and reviewing. I mean it.**


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

"Ooh, this one would look good on you."

"It would?"

"It matches the green of your eyes." She lifted the necktie to my throat and nodded, then looked back down at the display table. "No, this one would be a better contrast." She held it up. "Oh, definitely. Pink's your color, Edward."

"Good to know and never use." I hated shopping for myself and even though Bella was having fun, I could feel myself getting increasingly testy.

"What am I doing," she said to herself, putting down the ties she'd picked out, "making you look even more handsome. You just need something boring. These are fine." She added a random pair to my arm on which I was carrying the pants, sport coat and dress shirts we'd already picked out. All we had left to get were some shoes.

"Okay, are we done?"

"You hate this, don't you?"

"So much."

"Good to know and someday use." She smiled as we made for the cashier.

"What did you mean, 'even more handsome'?" I asked her later as I paying for the shoes.

"Are you going to pretend you don't know how good-looking you are?"

"I'm just curious what you think," I smiled down at her as I counted out some bills. I wasn't vain, but Bella was the first woman I'd been with who didn't seem preoccupied with my physical appearance. I loved that about her, but I wasn't used to it yet.

She rolled her eyes as she took the bag from the cashier. "You want to know if you're handsome to me? Yes. Very."

"What about the 'good to know and someday use'?" I covered for my ego by asking another question.

"Maybe, if you play your cards right, I'll buy your clothes from now on, now that I know your sizes," she smirked.

"So you'll be my vet and my personal shopper?"

"I guess so, if we're divvying up the chores."

"What about me, what are my chores?"

"Everything else?"

"Fair enough," I chuckled, "as long as you go easy on the pink."

Bella'd slept in this morning and the combination of catching up on her sleep and getting some closure at her mom's house yesterday had brought out a certain calmness in her. She'd helped the stylist at the salon decide how to cut my hair, neither of them consulting me, and had then patiently steered me through the maze of men's clothing in the department store, where I'd noticed her more than once checking the price tags with her lip between her teeth. Even though I wasn't getting anything very expensive, it was adding up, and I could tell it bothered her. I hoped she'd maintain her good mood when I told her the next thing I wanted to buy.

"I need to stop here," I told her as we approached the phone kiosk.

"Why?"

"You'll see." I told the guy behind the counter that I wanted to add another phone to my account. He punched some numbers into his computer and then pulled a few different models out for us to examine.

"Which one do you want?" I turned to Bella with a smile, watching her eyes widen as she looked up at me.

"Oh no, Edward. No."

"Yes. You need one."

"No. I can't let you." She set her jaw, shaking her head.

"You have to." I turned back to the clerk. "Are all of these Smartphones?"

"Yes, all 4G. This one we're running a special offer on right now." He picked one up and started showing us its features.

Bella gave him a quick smile, took my elbow and pulled me back a couple of feet. "This is too much. This is all costing too much. When I asked you to help me find out about my mom, I didn't expect you to have to buy new clothes, get another hotel room, buy groceries. None of that even occurred to me."

"It's all stuff I would have spent money on anyway," I could tell she was upset and didn't want to make light of her distress. "Except the clothes," I added with a shrug.

"But a phone is different. That's more than I can pay you back for."

"Then can it be a gift? If you're out with me and we get separated, I have to be able to reach you. And if you're back in the room, you might need internet access to help out with this investigation thing we're doing. I really want you to have one, Bella."

She sighed and crossed her arms. "Do you promise this is the only 'gift' you have to get me?"

"I can't think of anything else, so I guess so."

"It that a yes?"

"Yes, I promise it's the only gift I have to get you." I fought back a smile. She was smart enough to know it made sense for her to have a phone, but she hadn't caught the loophole she'd given me.

"Everything okay?" The clerk asked as we returned to the counter, his attention turning to Bella. "I don't think I've ever seen someone refuse a phone before."

"Um ..." For once Bella didn't have a ready answer.

"We're still getting used to being married," I interjected, stealing a quick glance at Bella. "You know, who pays for what, who does which chores."

"Right," he smiled at me. "All the stuff they don't tell you about when you're planning the wedding." He leaned in a little closer to me. "I can save you some time. Just do whatever she tells you." He straightened and looked at Bella. "Okay, what name should I put the new phone under?" Shit, I hadn't thought of that. "Last name Cullen, too?" The clerk helped us out, his fingers poised over the keyboard.

"Yes." Bella looked up at me. "Last name Cullen, first name Isabella."

"Okay, and did you decide on a phone?"

"This one's fine," Bella pushed the one he'd shown us earlier toward him, still keeping her eyes on mine.

"All right. This is will just take a minute to activate and then we're done."

"There's no rush," I assured him, smiling down at Bella. Isabella Cullen, I liked it. I liked it a lot. She liked it, too, I could tell by the way her lips kept curling up.

The only thing left to do was print up some business cards. Bella used her new phone to find a Kinko's, and when we got there she handled the self-service computer to draw them up. I was perfectly capable of doing it myself since I recorded most of my music on my laptop, but I let her take over, thinking she needed to feel like she was pulling her weight.

"Okay, what name are you using?"

"Anthony Platt, two t's." I couldn't use my own name. Not only would Bella know what I was up to, it was just too risky calling attention to myself when she was with me. I'd have to find some other way to draw out Mala.

"Where'd you get that?"

"It's Esme's maiden name."

"Don't forget to call her," she smiled up at me.

"I'll do it as soon as we get back to the room."

She hit the enter button a few more times, put in my cell phone number, then asked me to look it over before she submitted the order. It looked fine to me, nice and basic. I nodded my approval and fifteen minutes later, we were back on the road.

Bella went into the kitchen when we got back to our room and started heating up leftover spaghetti sauce. I asked her if I could use her phone to call Esme and took it into the living room when she said yes.

I dialed the number from memory and listened to it ring.

"Hello?"

"Esme?"

"Edward? Is that you?"

"Yeah. It's me."

"Oh my god, Edward!" She sounded like she was hyperventilating.

"Are you okay?" I couldn't help but smile at her reaction, remembering how she got when she was surprised.

She took a few deep breaths. "I'm fine. Are you okay? Where are you?"

"Phoenix."

"Phoenix? Are you living there now?"

"No, not really. Are you still in Baltimore?" That was a stupid question, the call had gone through.

"Yes, yes, we're still right here. So you're still living in Chicago?"

"I'm kind of between homes at the moment."

"Between homes? Do you need a place to go? You can come here, you know you can always come here, don't you?"

"It's not like that, Esme. I'm fine, really. I'm down here helping a friend, and I'm probably not going back to Chicago, that's all it is."

"What about your music?"

"Well, I'm hoping to end up some place where I can keep playing, but the important thing right now is to help my friend finish up some of her business."

"Her?"

"Her."

"As in a special her?"

"Very."

"Oh, Edward, that's wonderful. Tell me about her."

I glanced toward the kitchen, but didn't see Bella. "She's amazing. You'd love her."

"I would or I will? Will I get to meet her?"

"I don't know yet."

"You don't know yet?"

"No. There are a couple things we still have to do."

"What's her name?"

"Bella."

"Oh, that's so pretty. What does she do?"

"She's starting veterinary school, in the spring hopefully."

"A vet, how wonderful. I always wished we could have had pets when you kids were little, but what with the moving and everything."

"Hey, that's okay. How is everyone?"

"Oh, we're all good. Carlisle's getting ready to retire, can you imagine that?"

"No, not really."

"Me either. I don't think it's going to go well."

"How are the girls?"

"Great. Alice is majoring in fashion design in Rhode Island, and Rose is doing Women's Studies at Brown."

"Good for them. Tell them I say hi."

"I will, Edward," she paused. "It's so good to hear your voice again. I missed it. I miss you."

"I miss you, too. I'm sorry I haven't called."

"Why did you call? Why tonight?"

"Bella."

"Is she the one?"

"Yeah, she's the one."

"Tell her hello from me." She sounded like she was choking up.

"I will. Oh, and Esme?"

"Hm-hmm?" She was definitely choking up.

"Thank you for everything." I cleared my throat, suddenly sounding choked up myself.

She didn't answer for several moments. "Just call again, okay? Soon? Let me know where you end up, and if things work out with Bella."

"I will, I promise."

"Good-night, Edward."

"Good-night, Mom."

I hit the end button on Bella's phone and sank back into the couch, closing my eyes. It hadn't been a long call or a difficult one, but hearing Esme's voice brought back a lot of memories, a lot of emotions.

"Hey." I heard Bella come into the room. "You all right?" She sat on my lap and put her arms around my shoulders.

"I'm fine." I pulled her close. "Esme says hello."

"How is she?"

"Good. Everyone's good." I pulled her even closer and we sat together in silence for another minute or two, her fingers stroking lightly through my hair, relaxing me, smoothing away the rough edges of my memories.

"Why did you use my phone to call her?"

Bella's touch was so relaxing that it was out of my mouth before I could recapture it. "In case Mala finds me before I find him and gets my phone."

Bella's fingers stopped moving. "Before you find him?" I opened my eyes and looked into hers. She was frowning, her eyes moving quickly over my face. "What are you talking about, before you find him?" Something changed in the set of her jaw and I swore inwardly. "That's why you wanted me to stay here all day, so that you could go out and find him?"

I swallowed and nodded, loosening my arms so she could get up if she wanted, but she stayed on my lap, putting her hand under my jaw and turning my face to hers. She looked at me intently, still frowning, and then braced her hands on my shoulders, pushing herself up. I let my arms fall to my sides, wondering if I'd ever hold her again.

Instead, she straddled my lap and pressed her forehead to mine. "Jesus Christ, Edward. You were going to do that for me?" She tilted her head and kissed me, slowly but with more pressure than usual. "And you think you don't deserve me," she whispered into my lips, still kissing me. "It's the other way around." She tightened her hold on my shoulders, one of her hands coming up into what was left of my hair. There wasn't enough for her to get a grip, so she dug her fingernails into my scalp instead.

Something like a growl came out of me as I wrapped my arms back around her and returned her kiss as hard as I could. This woman. This fucking amazing woman and how fucking amazing she was, always surprising me, always knowing, always understanding.

"I love you so much, Bella." It was also out of my mouth before I could recapture it, but this time I didn't care. I wanted her to know, if she didn't already, and I suddenly, desperately, needed to know if she felt the same.

She pulled away from my mouth and rested her forehead on mine again. "I know you do. I love you, too."

"You do?" I tightened my arms around her. I was never going to let her go.

"Yes," she nodded, kissing the spot between my eyebrows. "Which is why you can't go anywhere near Mala. I can't lose you, too."

"But if he's always out there, you'll spend your whole life worrying."

"I'd rather do that than spend my whole life thinking I got you killed." She lifted my head again so she could look me in the eye. "Are you listening to me? I understand what you thought you were doing, but do you understand how I'll feel if he finds you?"

I took a moment to put myself in her place and then nodded. I'd been so preoccupied with somehow leading Mala to Bella, it hadn't occurred to me that she'd feel the same if she lost me. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head and kissed me again. "Don't be. That you would put yourself into that kind of danger for me … but you can't. You can't." She pressed herself into me. "I won't let you."

"You won't let me?" I smiled into her neck, loving her bossy side.

"No. Either you promise you won't look for him, or I won't let you out of my sight. I'll glue myself to your back if I have to."

I laughed out loud, kissing her neck and as much of her shoulder as I could. Relief that we felt the same about each other swept over me, and my mood turned facetious. "If you glue yourself to my back, it's going to be hard to do some of my favorite things."

"Like what?" She asked innocently, tilting her head to give me better access. "Play the guitar?"

"No," I nuzzled her shirt further off her shoulder, "I could probably still do that."

"Mmm. What else would you do for fun … karaoke? I could hold the mike. We could sing duets."

"That's not a bad idea, but no, not what was I thinking." I smiled into her skin, my hand coming up her back to pull her shirt further down her shoulder.

"Hmm," she sighed, raising herself up a little and coming back down on my groin, "archery, then? I could hold your quiver."

"I bet you could," I grinned up her from under my eyebrows, kissing her ear, sucking her lobe into my mouth, swirling it with my tongue.

"Sculpting?" Her voice was getting quieter, her breasts lifting against my chest with each breath.

"Warmer." I threaded my fingers into her hair and turned her head so I could kiss her other ear.

"Mud wrestling?" It was almost a whisper.

"Minus the mud and the wrestling, you're getting very warm now," I laughed into her neck. Where the hell was she getting this stuff? Was she paying me back for teasing her with big words last night?

"That only leaves belly dancing. Is that what you're into?"

"Yes, you got it." I laughed again, picking her up and carrying her into the bedroom. "As long as it's your belly and you're the one dancing, that's what I'm into." I put her down on the bed and took off her boots, got rid of my clothes and then climbed on top of her, holding myself above her as I leaned down to kiss her lips. "You are so fucking amazing, do you know that?"

"You make me feel like I am." She wrapped her arms around my neck and brought me down for a deep, long kiss. "Edward, please ..."

I pulled her shirt off and unhooked her bra, burying my face between her breasts, needing her essence. She held my head to her tightly, almost ferociously, grinding her body up to mine, her groans filling the room as she struggled to remove her skirt. I pulled it off of her in one motion and did the same with her panties. She surged up to me, her whole body wanting me, her hands everywhere, her gasps in my ear. "Edward, please ..."

When I entered her, it was different this time. This wasn't about sex, this was about love, both of us wanting to give as much as we got. She kept her hands behind my neck, her eyes open, watching the effect her hips had on me, and I had my hands cupped under her perfect shoulders, watching her as I moved slowly in and out.

"Edward, please ..."

"What do you need?"

"Harder."

I went in deeper.

"Oh, god, yes!" Bella threw her head back and clutched at my hips, driving me on. "You feel so good!"

I felt good? She might be the most amazing woman I'd ever met, but she had no idea what good felt like. Good felt like her wrapped around me, crying my name, begging me for more, digging her nails into my ass, her hips beginning their sweet dance. I groaned into her shoulder, begging her silently to never stop.

We came together.

"Edward, please?" She whispered into my neck after we'd recovered.

"Again?"

"No, please don't do anything stupid. Don't mess with Mala. Promise me?"

"I can't say no to you."

"So that's a yes?" She clenched her fingers around my forearms.

"Yes."

"Thank you."

"But you have to do something for me."

"Anything," she ran her hands up to my shoulders. "I'll do anything for you."

"If I ever think it's too dangerous for you to come with me, will you stay here without arguing?"

She looked up at me with that expression I was coming to love, her chocolate eyes softening at the corners, and nodded. The trust she had in me, it was a thing of beauty in its own right, separate from everything else she gave me. I cupped her cheek, swearing to her in my head that I wouldn't let her down, that I'd keep my end of the bargain. Mala would never know what a lucky bastard he was.

I sighed and pulled her closer, letting myself relax further, surprised to be feeling that sense of lightness again. Finding out what happened to Bella's mother was going to be a walk in the park compared to hunting down a higher-up in one of Mexico's largest drug cartels. Even though it was an obligation I'd assumed on my own, Bella asking me not to follow through on my plan felt like another load coming off my shoulders. And I'd talked to Esme tonight for the first time in years, the guilt of having cut her out of my life absolved in all the time it took to dial her number. "I'll do anything for you, too."

"Really?" She traced her fingers over my hips.

"Really."

"Then roll over onto your stomach. I need some time with your back."

Oh god, I did not deserve this woman but I was going to do my best to start.

**A/N: Sorry this is a bit late; Simaril did an awesome job, but I decided to tweak it a bit. Enjoy - I hope - kts.**


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

The next morning Bella and I parked about a block away from the Medical Examiner's office. We'd done some research and it looked like the first thing we should do was get Renee's death certificate. I wasn't expecting it to tell us much, but I wanted to raise as few suspicions as possible, and that meant pretending I was doing an actual insurance investigation.

"You can wait for me in that juice bar." I gestured down the street as I unbuckled my seatbelt and reached in my breast pocket for the glasses. "How do I look?"

"Ridiculous," she laughed, starting to get out.

"Good, because that's how I feel." I stood on the sidewalk and looked down at myself, adjusting my necktie for the hundredth time and hunching my shoulders, trying to find more room in the sport coat. I reached in the backseat for my briefcase at the same time Bella joined me.

"You still look very handsome, though." She smiled, reaching up to give me a quick kiss. "Try not to give all the old ladies palpitations."

"I'll try." I smiled back, not telling her that I'd be the one with palpitations if anything went wrong. "I don't know how long I'll be, but I'd rather you didn't wait by the window. Try to sit somewhere further back, but where you can see the sidewalk, and I'll walk by when I'm done."

"Okay." She straightened my tie. "You have to quit fiddling with this and pretend you wear one every day."

"Yes, ma'am."

She smiled and turned toward the juice bar, slipping on her sunglasses. She was wearing one of the skirts we'd bought in Mexico and even though it was too big for her, I still enjoyed watching her walk away.

Getting the death certificate was surprisingly easy. The clerk checked my ID against my business card and didn't ask me any questions except how I wanted to pay the $20 fee. Thirty minutes after we'd separated, I strolled past the juice bar. Bella came out almost immediately and we climbed back in the car.

"Fuck!"

"Right now?" She darted her eyes around the street, looking for passers-by.

"No, this heat," I laughed, turning on the car so I could start the air-conditioning. Half an hour in the morning sun, and it felt like a furnace. "How do people live down here?"

"They're used to it, I guess. So, you got it?"

I handed her the manila envelope and watched as she opened it.

"Suicide." She shook her head. "A dead end."

"Let me see."

The form was pretty basic. Renee's death had been ruled a suicide by a single gunshot wound to the chest. Autopsy results showed no other trauma to the body or contributing health factors. I skimmed through the brief medical jargon, something bothering me at the back of my mind. "There's something missing."

"Missing? Like what?"

"Suicide by gunshot." Of course. "There should be a gun." I glanced at Bella. "If your mom had shot herself, there would have been a gun found at the crime scene, and ballistics tests would have proven it was the one that killed her." I turned back to the form. "There's nothing here about ballistics, nothing about casings, nothing about a gun at all."

"Ballistics? Like back at the cliff." She knew exactly what I was talking about. "You didn't need to find the bullet, but these guys should have."

"If they'd been doing their jobs instead of covering up for Mala."

She took a deep breath and let it out. "So what now?"

"I want to talk to the medical examiner who signed off on this." I pulled out my phone. "Do you think you can stand another juice?"

Dr. Ramirez was willing to meet with me in-between autopsies. He said he had about ten minutes, starting now. I hurried back to the morgue and found him in his office on the third floor.

"Anthony Platt," I said, extending my hand. "Thank you for meeting with me." He nodded and gestured for me to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Like I said, I represent Western Life and Trust, and we're looking into a few loose ends before we settle with a client on the Renee Swan case."

"Renee Swan."

"Do you remember it?"

"The name sounds familiar. Hold on a second." He got up and pulled a file out of the cabinet behind him. "Ah, yes, of course. The nurse with the gunshot wound." He flipped through some of the papers, refreshing his memory. "What did you want to know?"

"I just got the death certificate and was curious about the findings."

He looked me up and down appraisingly. "You mean why I ruled it a suicide?"

"Exactly."

"I was told to."

"Excuse me?" My face must have registered my surprise that he was admitting this outright. "By whom?"

"My supervisor. It was obvious that Ms. Swan had been shot at close range, but without any corroborating evidence it was impossible to say how it had happened."

"Corroborating evidence?"

"A gun. Bullet casings. Something to match to the wound. Normally those would come with the body."

"But they didn't in this case?"

"No. I called my supervisor to tell her I hadn't received any evidence along with the body, and that without it, I'd have to rule the death 'indeterminate,' or 'suspicious,' which is what I was leaning toward."

"Why suspicious?"

"No gunshot residue on the hands." He skimmed a section of the report. "It's not impossible for a person to fire a weapon and not get residue on themselves, but doesn't happen often. Without the gun, I couldn't run the appropriate tests."

"Why did she tell you to rule it a suicide?"

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "She called me back the next day and said she'd talked to the Captain in charge of the Homicide Unit. He told her they'd lost the weapon somewhere along the way of getting the body from the scene of the death to the morgue. He said that it had looked like a suicide to the responding officers and to just put the death down as such for now. When the weapon turned up, we could change it if necessary."

I knew the weapon wouldn't be turning up, but I kept that to myself. "Have the police asked you to do that before? Make a ruling that you didn't agree with?"

"No. Never. My supervisor was very unhappy about it, but she thought I'd better do as they said. Not make any waves, I think were her words."

I didn't answer, just frowned in confusion, hoping he'd continue.

He did. "Hey," he shrugged and sat forward, leaning on his desk, "I'm retiring at the end of the year and I don't need any problems right now. If anyone had contacted me from the deceased's family, if anyone had asked about the ruling, maybe I would have done something differently. But I never heard from anyone, so I closed the file." He looked up at me, his expression changing. "Is that who you represent? A family member?"

"No, our policy-holder isn't related." Dr. Ramirez seemed legitimate, but I wasn't going to trust anyone with the truth that Bella was still alive.

He frowned. "Why are you investigating the claim? If it's an official suicide, doesn't that get your company off the hook?"

"No, on the contrary. The policy's unusual in that there isn't a 'no suicide' clause, but there is what we call a 'suspicious circumstances' clause – meaning if we discover the insured was living a high-risk lifestyle – drugs, usually – we can get out of it that way." I hoped that sounded convincing because I had no idea what I was talking about.

He nodded, accepting my explanation, and turned back to his notes. "Toxicology was negative."

"Would it be possible to get a copy of that?"

"The toxicology results?"

"The whole file?" I gave him one of the hopeful smiles I'd learned from Bella. "My supervisor is very thorough."

"I don't see why not. It's considered public record, but I think there are channels you're supposed to go through."

"I'm in a bit of a hurry." That was true in a way. Although we didn't have a time limit, now that the ball was rolling, I was anxious to get this wrapped up and to get Bella as far away from Phoenix as possible.

"All right. Hold on." He left the room and came back a minute later with another manila envelope. "I was thinking while I ran the copies." He sat, opened a desk drawer, and handed me a business card along with the envelope. "Would you do me a favor in return and call me if your investigation turns up anything relevant? I don't like leaving behind such sloppy work."

"Sure. I don't see why not." I pulled out my wallet and gave him one of my cards. "Here's my number. If you think of anything else, I'd appreciate a call as well."

He read the card and then tapped it on his desk. "Western Life and Trust. Never heard of them."

"We're pretty small."

"But thorough. I like that. Maybe I'll call you about insurance some time."

"Now that would be an interesting conversation," Bella chuckled when I'd rejoined her and we were driving back to the hotel. She was holding the ME's file tightly in her lap but hadn't opened it yet. "What are you going to do if he calls you and wants to take out a policy?"

"Um … refer him to you?"

"You'd better not."

"I don't know, then. If we're not done finding out what happened to your mom, then I'll have to stall somehow. If we're done, I can tell him the truth."

She looked down at the file in her lap. "I think I'll need you to read this and just tell me the gist."

"Okay."

"I can't stand the thought of mom being autopsied."

"Don't think about it, then." I reached over and took one of her hands in mine, rubbing it with my thumb. She laced her fingers through mine and gave me a tight squeeze.

"What would I do without you?" She said it so quietly it was almost to herself, her eyes looking out the passenger side window.

I lifted her hand to my mouth and kissed the back of it. "I've been asking myself that same question."

When we got back to the hotel, Bella insisted on making lunch while I took the file into the dining room, making a mental note to handle dinner myself tonight. I didn't want Bella to think I expected her to do all the cooking. Living alone as long as I had, I was more than capable of putting a decent meal together. In fact, maybe I'd treat her to something special tonight.

Twenty minutes later Bella brought out sandwiches and sat across from me. "Well? Anything?"

"Maybe." I slipped the most graphic papers to the bottom of the stack. "We've got some of the police reports now, anyway."

"Just some of them?"

"The initial ones from the responding officers." I pulled out a few documents and handed them to her. "They're not very descriptive, but least we have some names to work with." I watched her read through them and then scan the signatures at the bottom.

"You're going to contact these policemen?"

"Yep."

"Will that be safe to do?"

"I hope so." I took a bite of my sandwich and fished out another paper, looking it over again while I chewed and swallowed. "And then there's this."

She took it from my hand. "Communication Log," she read at the top. "Marlene Waters? Winters? I can't read it. And a phone number. What is this?"

"I'm guessing the morgue keeps a record of everyone who calls about a case. Dr. Ramirez said no one called to ask about his ruling, but this Marlene person – either her phone call was about something else or he just missed it, I don't know. But if she called about your mom, she might know something. She would have known your mom, at least," I continued, thinking out loud. "Maybe she's a friend or a coworker. You don't recognize the name?"

"No, I don't remember mom ever mentioning a Marlene. But she didn't talk about her work that often." Bella put the paperwork down and picked up her sandwich. "So that's all there is?"

"That's all that looks helpful." I didn't tell her about Dr. Ramirez's calculation that the gun had been fired at a distance of two to three feet. Although it undermined the suicide ruling, Bella already knew how her mother had died. She just needed to know why, and we had nothing to go on yet.

It was getting clearer to me why I'd been hired, though. Even to my untrained eyes, this was clearly a homicide. If anyone bothered to investigate it – Bella, say – it would have obvious immediately. I still didn't know why Mala hadn't killed her immediately, but I was eternally grateful that he hadn't, and that he'd called me instead of doing it himself.

Bella put her sandwich down and pushed her plate aside, resting her chin in her palm with a sigh.

"Don't tell me you're losing your appetite again."

"No, I just had too many smoothies this morning. Next time we'll have to find a coffee shop." She smiled. "So what's next?"

I swallowed the last bite of my sandwich and reached for my phone. "Miss Marlene and the coppers."

She laughed, taking my empty plate and slipping it under hers. "That sounds like a bad 1930's movie."

"I don't know about that." I looked up the number for the police department. "It could be kind of sexy."

This time she snorted. "What, Miss Marlene gets arrested by a couple of handsome policemen?" She leaned forward and raised an eyebrow, encouraging me to continue the plot.

"And to prove her innocence, she bravely performs a striptease."

"Of course," she laughed. "Just like any normal woman."

I loved making her laugh, and paused before I dialed. "I'm sorry if you can't visualize it. Maybe we should role play."

I was rewarded when her jaw dropped; her laughter came up from deep within. "You have got to be kidding me."

I shook my head, trying to look serious. "I said I'd get you back for that mariachi thing you made me do."

"By stripping."

"Privately, of course. At least I'll give you that."

She pursed her lips and shook her head, but the grin she was trying to subdue while she carried the plates back to kitchen told me she was thinking about it. I regained focus and hit the dial button. Neither of the policemen were available, so I left messages in their in-boxes. Marlene's number went to voicemail, where her voice sounded friendly and upbeat. I left another message, and then wandered into the living room.

Bella was on the couch, reading something on her phone.

"What are you looking at?"

"ASU's website. Trying to find out if it's possible to transfer a scholarship." She glanced up at me. "Don't worry, I didn't sign in."

I nodded and moved to the windows. Our room looked down on the parking lot in back of the building and I tried to guess how long it would take Mala to park and make it up here. It would depend on whether he knew which room we were in, and I realized that just as with my home in Chicago, there was no way he would know the hotel but not the room. Minutes, in other words.

My phone rang and I glanced at the number before answering. "Anthony Platt."

"This is Marlene Walters. I got your message."

"Thank you for returning my call."

"You're welcome, but I'm not sure how I can help you." She sounded friendly, but hesitant.

"Well, like I said, Ms. Walters," I turned to look at Bella, who'd put down her phone and was listening. I hit the speakerphone button and increased the volume. "I work for an insurance company that has a policy on Renee Swan. I'm investigating her death and your name was on the Medical Examiner's communication log."

"You're investigating her death? I thought the police decided it was a suicide."

"My company isn't bound by the police ruling. We're conducting our own investigation."

"And are you working with the police?"

"No, I'm completely independent of them."

"Can I ask what you've found so far?" She wanted a reason to trust me. I could hear it in her voice.

"I've only just started, but it already looks like there are a lot of unanswered questions." I hoped that was vague enough.

"Damn right there are," she huffed. Then she took a quick breath. "Who's your client? Is it Bella?"

"Bella?" I watched Bella's eyes widen as she put a hand over her mouth.

"Renee's daughter, is she your client?"

"No, I'm sorry. Our client's not related."

Marlene let out a sigh. "Damn it. That's the biggest unanswered question – what happened to Bella that night."

"Ms. Walters? Is that right?"

"You can call me Marlene."

"Marlene, can I ask how you knew Renee?"

"We worked together."

"You're a nurse, too?"

"Yes."

"Can I buy you a coffee or something in exchange for some of your time? I'd really like to talk to you in person. I only need fifteen minutes."

"My lunch break is just ending. I have to get back to work."

"After work, then? I'll meet you anywhere, at any time that works for you."

She let out another sigh. "Okay. I guess it can't hurt; although I can't imagine I have any useful information. The police certainly didn't think so. They didn't return any of my calls."

"Even if you don't think you know anything useful, I'd still like to meet. It sounds like you could help me get a feel for the kind of person Renee was."

"Oh, that's easy enough. She was wonderful, a truly good person." I glanced over at Bella, who gave me a sad smile. "Tell you what, if you don't mind coming to the hospital, my afternoon break starts at three. I'll meet you in the cafeteria."

"The cafeteria at three. I'll be the one with the too-short hair and the dorky glasses."

**A/N: This chapter didn't need much work, so I'm putting it up a bit early. In fact, I may get another one up later tonight :)**


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Marlene had as many questions as I did. The police hadn't told her anything about the night Renee'd been killed, and she only had the minimal information she'd heard through the media. I explained that I'd only seen the ME's file thus far, but that there were some reasons to doubt it had been a suicide.

"What reasons?"

"There isn't a gun in evidence, for one. The police claim to have lost it."

"What else?"

"There wasn't any gunshot residue on her hands, although that's not conclusive that she didn't fire the weapon."

She nodded carefully. Marlene was a trim woman in her early forties, her air no-nonsense, and her questions direct and intelligent. "And it's in your company's interest to show it wasn't a suicide?"

I explained again about the various clauses in the policy. It was getting easier to bluff the more I did it; this time I actually sounded like I knew what I was talking about.

"I highly doubt Renee even owned a gun. She'd been married to a cop and she told me once that she'd hated having a gun in the house. It made her nervous."

"The ME thinks the shot was fired from about two feet away. It strikes me as an odd way to kill yourself, holding a gun that far out from your body." I knew it was, especially with a small caliber weapon like the one that had killed Renee.

Marlene straightened her arms and mimed shooting herself in the chest. "That's a really awkward position. It's hard to pull your fingers back when your arms are out like that." She shook her head. "I don't believe it, anyway. There's no way Renee killed herself."

"Can you tell me more about her?"

She gave me pretty much the same information I'd gotten from Bella, describing Renee as hardworking, one of their best nurses. They were a tight-knit bunch, she explained, and none of them were surprised when Renee was offered a position in administration earlier in the year.

"What exactly did she do in administration?"

"She was kind of the top nurse. If any of us had a problem, we'd go to her and if she couldn't resolve it herself, she'd act on our behalf with the rest of the staff."

"You mean the doctors?"

"Usually, but sometimes other staff. Payroll, sanitation, pharmacy, you name it."

Pharmacy. My ears perked up. "Was there anything unusual happening here at the hospital around the time she died? Any crazy patients making threats, stuff like that?"

"Oh, that happens every day. That's perfectly normal." She made a small wave with her hand. "Renee didn't treat patients anymore, anyway, in her new job." She paused and looked down at the table. "I'm trying to go back a month in my memory. Give me a second."

"Take all the time you need." I took a sip of my coffee and looked around the cafeteria. Not much to see, but the view out the windows was nice. If I craned my neck, I could probably make out the bagel shop where Bella was waiting.

"You know, there was something. It's probably nothing, but it had never happened before and it hasn't happened since. It can't be related, though," she shook her head again.

"Tell me anyway," I smiled, trying to be charming.

It worked. She smiled back. "Okay, but again, this is probably nothing. We were having a problem with meds." I leaned forward, giving her my full attention. "Several patients weren't responding to their pain meds."

"Their pain meds?"

"Percocet, actually. For about two weeks just before Renee died, our Percocet wasn't working."

"How did you know?"

"Oh, believe me, when a patient is in pain and the meds aren't working, you know it. On my floor, oncology, we had three cases, but there were more throughout the hospital."

"What did you do?"

"Some of us told the doctors but were pooh-poohed, as usual," she rolled her eyes, "and some of us told Renee. I talked to her about it myself."

"What did she say?"

"That she'd look into it, of course. She was going to check with the pharmacy, and in the meantime told me to let her know of any and all cases I knew about."

"Do you know what happened?"

"No, after that initial conversation I didn't see Renee again for several days. Our paths didn't cross any more unless I sought her out, and I didn't have any new cases to report."

"But you did see her again?"

"The day before she died. She passed me in the hall. I was talking to a doctor and she squeezed my elbow, giving me a thumbs up and a big smile. I took it to mean she'd fixed the problem." She sipped her coffee and looked out the window. "That was the last time I saw her."

I cross my arms and leaned back, thinking about Percocet. Was it possible Mala's cartel had switched over from illegal to prescription drugs, and somehow infiltrated the hospital's pharmacy? Was there a market for fake Percocet? How could there be if the nurses here had noticed immediately? I ran my hand over my non-existent hair. "If I wanted to talk to someone in the pharmacy, is there anyone you especially trust?"

She turned back to me and lowered her brows, weighing her answer before she spoke. "You're really an insurance agent?"

I pulled out my wallet and handed her a card. "Investigator, not agent."

She looked at it, still frowning. "It seems to me you already have enough suspicious circumstances to deny the claim."

"We're very thorough. We don't like to deny a claim unless we can back it up with something conclusive."

"So you're actually trying to prove that Renee was murdered?"

"If I can, yes."

"Why do you care more than the police?" It was more a question to herself, and she shook her head while she fingered my card.

"I'll be notifying the authorities of my findings." Dr. Ramirez was an authority, right? Right.

"And they'll do jack squat with it," she snorted. Then she sat up straighter. "It's such a shame you're not representing Bella. If you find out what happened to her, will you let me know? You have my number."

I feigned ignorance of Bella's whereabouts and listened while she confided how baffled all the nurses were that Bella had disappeared that night. Some thought she'd been killed, too, her body just not found. Others thought she'd been kidnapped into white slavery, possibly the motive for the murder, since they all knew how pretty Bella was from the photo on Renee's desk. A few even thought she was the one who'd shot Renee, that she was possibly mixed up with drugs.

"I don't believe that last one, though. Renee was so proud of her, going to vet school. She said once that Bella was going to make an excellent doctor, and treating animals was harder than people because they couldn't tell you what was wrong. She said Bella had a special intuition with animals, and with people. She's the reason I kept calling the police, and finally the morgue."

"Bella was the reason?"

She nodded, her professional demeanor finally giving way. "I have a daughter." She put her hand up in a fist to her chin. "I'd go insane if she just disappeared. Both of Bella's parents were dead and there was no one else to look for her, so I tried." She looked like she was tearing up. "I tried."

"You did good." I looked her in the eye, not having to fake anything. "If you hadn't called the morgue, I wouldn't have gotten your number and we wouldn't have had this conversation. You've given me a lot to go on, and when I'm finished, I promise to let you know everything I can about what happened to Bella."

She nodded and quickly pulled herself back together. "Thank you, I'd appreciate that." She glanced at her watch. "Time to head back."

"Thank you again for meeting with me." I rose after she did and extended my hand. She took it and looked carefully at my face. "Phil."

"Excuse me?"

"Phil, in the pharmacy, he's the one you should talk to. He and Renee, well – that's neither here nor there, but he's the one you should talk to."

The pharmacy was in the basement and it only took me a couple of wrong turns and misguided elevator rides to find it. I was apparently not very good with signs. Good to know, I thought, as I approached the front desk emblazoned with the same big blue P that I'd seen everywhere in this labyrinth. With arrows. Pointing me here.

Phil was younger than I'd expected, maybe in his mid-thirties, and had an open, easy-going manner. When I introduced myself and explained why I'd asked to see him, his smile dropped along with his handshake. "You want to talk about Renee?"

I went through my spiel, watching his face get sadder and then grow confused. "How can I help?"

"Your name was given to me by one of the nurses. She said there was something unusual happening with pain medications just before Renee died, and that you might know more."

"Oh yeah, I'd forgotten about that. Come on back."

He led me down a hall to an open workspace and pulled an extra chair up to his cubicle.

"What do you do here?" I'd been expecting a pharmacist in a white lab coat, but this looked like an ordinary office.

"Accounting." He sat and gestured for me to take the extra chair.

"Do you like it?"

"It's okay so far. Good benefits. I don't especially like working in a basement, but that's my only complaint."

"It's confusing down here. It took me forever to find the pharmacy."

"I know, right?" He chuckled, his good humor returning. "It's like your inner compass shuts down as soon as you get off the elevator."

"You said it's okay so far? You haven't been here long?"

"Nope, only about six months. I used to play ball. Minor leagues." He watched for my reaction and I tried to look impressed. "When I was thirty I tore my ACL, so I quit and got my accounting degree."

I nodded and gave him a sympathetic smile. "That's a big change."

"No shit. From running around outside all day to this." He gestured up at the fluorescent lights. "But I'm not complaining. It's a good job, like I said, and I get along really well with everyone."

"Including Renee?"

"Especially Renee. She was something else." He shook his head and his gaze drifted over his desk.

"You two were close?"

"Not as close as I wanted. She thought she was too old for me and that we should be just be friends. I was hoping she'd change her mind."

"How did you meet?"

"I was lost over in the janitorial section. She'd come down to talk to someone over there and found me wandering around. She laughed and said I reminded her of a lost puppy. I told her she could adopt me, and that was it. We hit it off and started meeting for coffee on our breaks, stuff like that." He paused and pushed some paperwork around. "It's a goddamned shame, what happened."

"The police put it down as a suicide."

"Yeah, well, the police can kiss my ass."

"I take it you don't agree."

He shook his head. "There's no way. No way. You can tell your boss I said so."

I suppressed a smile. She already knew. "What do you remember about the pain medication problem that was happening back in – I guess it would have been early August?"

He blew out a breath and leaned back in his chair. "Let me think." He closed his eyes and crossed his arms. "The first I heard about it was from Renee. We were sharing a break, and she asked me if it was ever part of my job to check the pharmacy inventory. I said no, that I didn't have clearance to go back where they keep the drugs, that I just do the numbers."

"I imagine only certain people are authorized to handle the drugs?"

"Exactly. The actual pharmacists, and some of the administration types. They don't let just anyone back there."

"Did she tell you why she asked?"

"She said some patients weren't responding to the Percocet, not just once or twice, but enough that she wanted to check with someone in the pharmacy."

"Did she say what she was hoping to find?"

"No, I don't remember talking about that. She didn't seem as worried that time."

"That time?"

"We met again a few days later, and she was more upset. No, that's not the right word – confused, maybe. She said she'd checked the labels on the Percocet and everything looked legitimate."

"So she'd gotten back into the inventory?"

"Yeah, the head pharmacist took her, she said. She said the packaging and the security seals and everything were perfect, so that wasn't the problem. She was thinking maybe someone on staff with an addiction had found a way to intercept the meds between when they left the pharmacy and when they reached the patient, and was substituting the pills with something that looked identical."

I nodded appreciatively. "But didn't work." It was a good theory.

"Yeah, a placebo or whatever they call it. The only problem was it was happening all over the hospital, so she was worried it was more than one person, maybe even an organized ring that was stealing the stuff to sell on the streets."

It made sense from Renee's perspective, but I seriously doubted the cartel would risk messing around with a hospital just for a few handfuls of painkiller. There had to be another explanation. "Did she have any other theories?"

"Not that she mentioned, but she did ask me to do her a favor."

"What was that?"

A couple of men walked past just then, one in a suit, the other in a lab coat. Phil watched them depart, a frown deepening on his face. "Let's talk somewhere else. Do you want a coffee?"

"Not really. I just had one, but if you do."

"No, let's walk around for a bit. I know a good spot from the last time I got lost down here."

He led me to a poorly lit alcove at the end of a long hallway. We'd be able to hear anyone coming long before they heard us, but Phil kept his voice low as he turned to me. "When Renee was checking the Percocet, she scribbled down a batch number. She wanted to know if there was a way to trace the batch to the order, to see who we bought it from, and when."

What was that old saying? Follow the money. I was growing more impressed with Renee by the minute. "Did you find anything?"

"Yes and no. The batch number that she'd given me matched an order that had come in several weeks prior. I checked the distributor and it seemed to be the one we always used. But then I did a search of all Percocet distributors, and found something else. About a week before the Percocet started failing, we'd gotten a shipment from a different distributor, and a quick check showed that we hadn't ordered Percocet from them before. I didn't know if it was anything useful, but I told Renee what I'd found."

"Do you remember the name?"

"Oh, what was it?" He asked himself. "Something really basic. Phoenix Pharmaceuticals, I think? I know it had Phoenix in the name, because of the billing address."

"Also Phoenix?"

"No, that's what caught my eye. Some place I'd never heard of – Dos Piños, New Mexico. I've traveled all over the Southwest playing ball, but that was a new one to me. I remember thinking it must be one of those tiny dots on the map, and wondering why a pharmaceutical company would have a billing office there."

I'd quit listening after he mentioned Dos Piños. We'd been right. Renee had crossed the cartel here, at the hospital.

Phil was watching me, his eyebrows tightening. "Is that what got her killed? What I found out?"

"No," I said automatically. He couldn't carry that burden for the rest of his life. "What got her killed was her doing her job – too well. At least, that's what I think."

He tipped his head, still watching me carefully. "You know, I'm not stupid just because I used to play baseball for a living. This is some serious shit, isn't it?"

I nodded.

"Fuck. Goddamn it." He swiveled away and thrust his hands into his pockets in impotent rage. "I should have told her what I was thinking, that she should drop it. But she was enjoying playing detective, solving the mystery. I had no idea."

Suddenly I felt horrible in my fake get-up. Phil's rage, his remorse, and especially his grief, were real. I pulled my glasses off and stuck them in my pocket, loosening my tie. "Hey," I said quietly, "come on, walk me out of here."

When we got to the front doors, I paused. "You've got my card and can call me any time, for anything." I meant that. Phil could have been Bella's stepfather if things had turned out differently.

He nodded. "And you know where I work, although honestly I may not be here much longer."

"No?"

We exited together and paused again in the bright sun. "After Renee died, the basement just seems dimmer every day. You know?"

"Yeah."

"When you find that one person, when you're that lucky, " he looked down at his feet. " – what a fucking shame."

"You're right, about both."

He looked back up at me. "Say hi to the kid for me."

"The kid?"

"Bella. I hadn't met her yet, but tell her I say hi anyway."

"I told you before -"

"Yeah, I know what you told me." His gaze wandered off to the buildings across the street. "But I'm not stupid. I'd have done anything for Renee, too."

**A/N: The pace is picking up, both with the plot and the posting. All good, I hope! - kts**


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

"You'd better be careful. I could get used to this."

"And that would be bad because …?" I left the question unanswered as I put Bella's dinner down in front of her.

"Because if this tastes half as good as it looks, you're going to be in charge of the cooking." She smiled up at me as I poured her a glass of wine and took my seat. She'd been in a surprisingly good mood since we got back to the hotel.

"Mmm, it's fantastic," she moaned, putting the first forkful of spicy fried potatoes in her mouth. She looked me up and down while she ate. "All that and he can cook too. Total win."

I chuckled while I started in on my steak. Apparently she now thought I needed to have my ego stroked, and apparently she was right, her words warming me from the inside just like one of her smiles. "You're in such a good mood. I expected you to take the news a lot harder."

She shook her head. "I'm relieved to know that mom had people who cared about her, and that we were right about her somehow crossing the cartel at the hospital. For a long time, when I was at Juanita's, I thought it might have been just a crazy random shooting, or more likely, a case of mistaken identity. Somehow knowing that it wasn't makes me feel better."

"Gives it a meaning?" I wondered how the families of my victims had felt. Still felt.

"Not a meaning, necessarily, but a reason at least. Tell me about Phil again."

I went over the conversation I'd had in the basement, stressing how upset he was, how much he genuinely seemed to care about Renee. "He said to say hi to you."

"What? He knows I'm alive?"

"He guessed as much."

"Will he tell anyone?"

"I doubt it. He must suspect it could be dangerous for you to come forward."

She went back to her meal, her expression growing pensive. "So the cartel was selling fake Percocet to the hospital, and mom found out."

"That's what it looks like."

"She was so cheerful that last night. I wish I'd asked her what had happened at work."

"She probably told someone, her supervisor or the head pharmacist. That's what you'd do, right? If you thought you'd solved a problem?" I'd been thinking this through on the drive back and was pretty sure I knew what had happened next.

"Yeah, you'd tell your boss." She looked up at me with her fork poised at her mouth. "Oh, fuck."

"Yeah."

"Whoever she told called Mala."

I nodded. "It can't be a coincidence that the night she thought she'd solved the problem, the problem showed up at her door."

She put her fork down, her eyes widening. "That means someone at the hospital was in on it."

"Yeah. The cartel must have someone on the inside." Maybe I should call Phil and tell him to start looking for a new job. Like now.

"That never occurred to me."

"It hadn't occurred to me, either, until today."

"Jesus, Edward. They've got people in the hospital, in the police. Now I'm getting scared." She got up and started pacing. "Let's just leave it, leave here."

"You don't want to try to find out anything more?"

She shook her head. "I thought … I wanted to do right by mom and not just run away from her murder, you know?" She turned to me mid-step. "I thought it was probably mistaken identity. Random. That I could find out what happened without stirring anything up. But they killed her on purpose."

"We still don't know why."

"It doesn't matter." She walked over and put her hands on both sides of my neck, her thumbs caressing my jaw. "She knew something, and if you find out what she knew, they could come after you, whether you're Anthony Platt or Edward Cullen."

"I can take care of myself, sweetheart."

"Sweetheart?" She bit her lip, her eyebrows coming together but her mouth turning up.

I'd forgotten how Mala had used endearments and cursed myself inwardly. "Sorry, Bella, it just slipped out."

"Sweetheart." She smiled wider. "I like it."

I pulled her down for a kiss. "This whole thing is up to you. If you want to go, we go."

"Where?"

"Anywhere you say."

"Chicago, to get your guitars?"

"Sure," I smiled.

"And then Baltimore?"

"What?"

"I want to meet your family. Maybe we can stop and visit your sisters on the way." She sat on my lap and I wrapped my arms around her.

"You want to meet my family."

"Yes. I do." She head-butted me lightly with her forehead. "Okay?"

"Okay." I literally couldn't say no to this woman. Anything she wanted, I'd give it to her if I could, I thought, as I kissed her perfect lips again.

She sighed and leaned into me, opening my mouth, turning my head as she sat up to kiss me harder than usual, her weight resting on my chest, her tongue dancing with mine. A flash of lust hit me, and I groaned, pulling her closer. Why did it always seem like I was pulling her closer? Because she was never close enough, that was why. She needed to be straddling my lap, so I pushed my chair back and moved her legs until she was, pulling her hips into mine. I kissed her neck and worked my way down to her shoulder, easily moving her shirt aside. "These shirts were genius."

"Why?"

"If you'd gotten something that fit you better, I wouldn't be able to do this." I nuzzled her skin, sucking, licking, nipping.

"Oh Jesus, Edward." My nip was rewarded with her pushing herself closer, grinding on my lap. She liked my teeth, and I drew them over her skin slowly, feeling her shiver in response, her shiver sending me into that mind fog that only needed one thing to clear it. One thing. Her.

I kissed her mouth, her throat, and her ear while I listened to her breathing get heavier, felt her arms around my shoulders get tighter. She raised herself up on my lap and I pulled her shirt down, burying myself in her cleavage. My favorite spot, right over her heart. I kissed the side of each breast, then moved her bra aside to focus on her nipples. So perfect, so tiny and pink, so taut. I nipped at one and she groaned and threw her head back.

"No!"

"No?" Had I done something wrong?

"You don't get to … this is my turn."

"Your turn?"

She slid off my lap and knelt between my legs, her hands reaching for my belt. "It's my turn."

"Bella, sweetheart, you don't have to -" but she already had me undone, in her hand, in her mouth, and I was gone. Gone. Fucking gone.

I leaned back into the chair and thrust up into Bella's mouth, her mouth the only thing that mattered. So good. Too good. Oh fuck, she knew exactly where to lick me, how hard to suck, when to let go and start again, like she was a maestro and I was her instrument.

She didn't tease me this time, and within minutes, I was gripping the arms of the chair as hard as I could, the first wave hitting me with a force I felt through my entire body. I groaned and opened my eyes as I came. Bella was watching me, her eyes smiling up at me, her throat bobbing once as she swallowed, sucking me lightly as she let go of me, circling my tip once with her tongue.

I laughed involuntarily and bent down to pull her back up on my lap, burying my face in her neck while I recovered. I needed a minute before I could trust my legs to stand, let alone to carry her – because that was what I was going to do next. Carry her to bed and make love to her for the rest of the night. The rest of my life.

"God, Bella." I turned her face to mine and kissed her, hard. "Talk about being good at something."

She giggled and dipped her head, embarrassed.

I lifted her chin and ran my thumb over her cheek, noticing her blush. "You are so fucking beautiful."

Her smile widened, but her eyes shifted away and she shook her head a little. "Oh, come on, Edward. That's just the blow job talking."

"No, it definitely is not. I thought you were beautiful the first time I laid eyes on you."

"You did?"

"Hm-hmm. Even though you were wearing a granny nightgown and throwing whisky at me."

She laughed again, tightening her arms around my shoulders. "That is one of my best looks. If I'd only had a poncho to complete the ensemble."

"It would have been love at first sight. Hell, it practically was anyway."

"It was?" She sounded surprised.

"You didn't notice how I was lingering the next morning? How I didn't want to ride away?"

She shook her head. "No. I just thought you were being careful about testing your bike."

I squeezed her tightly. "Nope. I didn't want to leave."

"I didn't want you to leave, either."

"No?"

"You seemed like a nice guy, like someone I could trust. Someone who could maybe help me. And you did." She squeezed me back. "But it wasn't until the night we faked my death that I thought you were more than a nice guy with a pretty face."

"Why's that?" I chuckled.

"The way you helped me up the cliff, and then when you hugged me at the top. It was like you knew."

"Knew what?"

"What I needed." She pulled back enough to smile at me. "And you gave it to me without thinking. That's when I started to notice how special you were. Are."

My legs felt normal again, and I stood, picking her up with me and moving toward the bedroom.

"What are you doing? Don't you want to finish your dinner?"

"Nope. There's something else I'd rather have." I grinned down at her. "You are going to let me return the favor, aren't you?"

She bit her lip and returned my grin. "Anytime, tiger. Anytime."

"Tiger," I laughed under my breath hours later while I cleaned the kitchen. I winced a little as I bent to put the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. Tonight her nails had actually scratched my back enough that I could still feel their tracks. She was the tiger, not me. I smiled again, perfectly content to wear her scratches. It was only fair. She might be a little sore again in the morning herself.

While Bella had succumbed to sleep after her last climax, I'd gotten a second wind. Part of it was just that I felt so fucking good, I didn't want to go to sleep and waste the feeling. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been this – happy, and I'd forgotten how it felt. Part of it was my mind, though, too, beginning to sort out what we had to do next. Not just the logistics of getting to Chicago and Baltimore, but how to get Bella back in school, how to get her scholarship transferred, how to return her to life when she was supposed to be dead.

I couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't a good idea to leave Mala alive. I'd promised Bella I wouldn't look for him, and I was going to keep that promise, but that didn't mean I had to agree with it. And what we'd found today about the cartel selling fake Percocet - that raised more questions than it answered. What kind of a scam was that, anyway? The nurses had caught the problem right away. It must have been a test – a trial run – the cartel checking to see if in fact they could infiltrate a hospital pharmacy, if their packaging was sufficiently realistic. If Bella and I left tomorrow, we'd probably never find out what the cartel was up to, and although that didn't weigh on my conscience particularly, I found myself surprisingly unwilling to walk away from Renee's murder. Now that I had a face to put to the name, a face that shared the same smile as Bella, she was a real person to me. A person with friends, a man who loved her – or wanted to love her – a job, a daughter, and a messy house.

I saw on the couch and tapped idly at the remote control, wishing I had one of my guitars. Whenever I got into one of these restless mental states, the best cure was to work on a new song or improvise on an old one. Like Bella's pacing, it gave my body something to do while my mind sorting itself out.

My phone rang just as I clicked off the TV. I didn't recognize the number, but the prefix was the same as the police officers'. I answered without thinking.

"Anthony Platt."

"Mr. Platt, this is Officer Peterson returning your call. I hope this isn't too late."

I glanced at the clock on the TV. "No, it's fine. Thank you for calling me back."

"No problem. My shift just started a couple hours ago and I got your message. This is my first break."

"It's fine. So, like I said in my message, I'm an insurance investigator and we have a policy on Renee Swan."

"I remember the case. Victim was DOA in the front hall of her house."

"That's the one."

"What can I help you with?"

"The ME ruled her death a suicide. My company needs to look into that a little further to determine whether or not we pay out on the claim."

"Suicide?"

"You didn't know that?"

"No. They don't tell us anything."

"You didn't do any follow-up on the case?"

"No. My partner and I are just beat cops. First responders. We confirmed the victim was deceased, secured the scene, and then handed it over to the detectives when they got there. Hold on a sec."

I heard him cover his phone and speak to someone else. I could hear another man's voice but couldn't make out their conversation. Three or four minutes later, he returned. "Hey, my partner has a good idea. He got your message, too, and you could talk to both us right now. We're at the Starbucks on 2nd and Jefferson, and we'll be here for another twenty minutes unless we get a call. If you're close enough, that is."

"I'll be there in ten." I had no idea where the Starbucks was, but as soon as I hung up, I checked on my phone. It wasn't far. I grabbed my keys and jacket and headed for the door, but something made me stop. Bella wanted to drop the investigation. Would she be angry with me if I went? I tiptoed to the bedroom door and pushed it open a crack. The parking lot lights were coming in through the window, illuminating it enough for me to see her half-naked form twisted in the sheets, her hair spread out all over my pillow. I weighed whether to wake her. These cops didn't sound like they knew very much, and I didn't think I'd be gone long. And doing something, – anything at this point – would help me work out my restlessness. My decision made, I started to close the door when my eye caught the closet. Should I bring my gun? Maybe Bella'd be less upset with me if I assured her I took every precaution.

An hour later I let myself silently back in and went to check on Bella. She stirred when I pushed the door open and opened her eyes.

"Where were you?"

"I went out for a bit."

"Where?"

"The cops called me back. I went to meet them."

She pulled the sheet around herself and sat up. "I said I wanted to drop it."

"I know you did, but I didn't think it could do any harm." I slipped my jacket off and hung it with my holster in the closet.

"You took your gun."

"Just in case." I sat on the bed, and cupped her cheek. She didn't look angry.

"Did they know anything?"

I shook my head, tracing her cheekbone with my thumb. "They just responded to the call, and they haven't had a thing to do with the case since that night. I think I know why Mala didn't kill you right away, though."

"You do?"

"There was a witness."

"What?" She sat up further, her eyes wide open.

"Want to come in the kitchen? I stopped and got you some ice cream."

"Oh, definitely." I watched her scramble out of bed, searching the floor for her discarded clothes. When she'd slipped into her skirt and t-shirt, I took her hand and led her to the table.

"It's gelato, actually." I pulled the cartons out of the bag.

"That was so nice of you."

"Not entirely. I didn't know your favorite flavors, so I got mine. Vanilla, chocolate and orange." I smiled over my shoulder at her as I found bowls and spoons.

"Those are your favorite flavors?" She took a taste and nodded her approval.

"They are now. Well, there's one more, but I doubt anyone will ever make it into an ice cream."

"You're terrible." She shook her head, fighting back a grin while she took another bite.

"You're wonderful."

She smiled at me over her spoon. "Gelato _and_ compliments. You must have thought I was going to be really angry that you went out."

I shook my head a little to myself. She was just getting better at reading my mind the more time we spent together. I gestured over the containers. "I just thought you might be hungry, and yes, maybe a little upset."

"So 'just in case.'"

"Just in case," I laughed.

"Tell me about this witness."

"They had another call that night, about an hour after your mother was killed. A clerk at a convenience store reported a possible kidnapping. The cops remembered it because it was unusual to have a murder and a kidnapping in that neighborhood on the same night."

"Someone inside saw me?"

I nodded. "He told the officers he didn't call at first because he wasn't completely sure what he'd seen, but then a customer came in and told him someone'd been shot a block away about the same time."

"What did he see?"

"He told them he'd just happened to glance up at the front of the store when a girl ran under the light. He assumed she was coming in, but a second later, a man seemed to catch up to her. The man grabbed her arm and looked over his shoulder into the store, making eye contact with the clerk. The next second a car pulled up, and they were gone."

"Just like I said."

"Just like you said."

"So because the clerk made eye contact with the guy, they didn't kill me right away?"

"They must have wanted to make sure their people in the police department could bury the report."

"The cops tonight told you that?"

"No, the guys I talked to didn't seem to have any idea what's going on. None. They didn't even know you mom's death had been ruled a suicide."

"Were they surprised by that?"

"Not really. It wasn't their job to gather evidence, so the lack of a gun didn't occur to them."

Bella stopped eating and stirred her gelato with her spoon, her eyes on mine. "You don't want to quit this, do you?"

"I want to do what you want to do."

"That doesn't answer my question," she smiled gently. "This really is your half-way, isn't it? Finding out what happened to my mom?"

I shrugged noncommittally, but she wasn't having it. "This is making you feel better about your past, about the people you killed." She looked at me carefully, her eyes caring and worried at the same time, and put her hand on mine. "I get it, Edward, I do. But it's too dangerous. I'll never forgive myself if something happens to you."

I laced my fingers through hers, and looked into her beautiful eyes. My voice seemed to be caught in my throat as I realized that if she really, truly loved me, maybe that was all the redemption I needed. If I was a good enough person to deserve her love, then I couldn't possibly be all bad. I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed it, clearing my throat. "Nothing will. There's just one thing I want to do tomorrow, and then we'll go."

**A/N: This chapter may or may not have a gratuitous fellatio scene – I'll let you guys decide. I really wanted to try a scene like this in ASB, but that Bella and I were too inhibited. That doesn't seem to be a problem this time around ;). No promises about posting tomorrow as the next couple of chapters need some work – but I'll do my best. Thanks again to everyone who's reading! I really, really appreciate it. - kts**


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Renee's grave was in the newer section of Greenwood Cemetery, on the west side of town. It took us a while to find it as the nurses' collection had only afforded them the small kind of marker that lay flat on the ground. Bella knelt and traced the marker lightly with her finger, whispering something to herself, or to Renee, I couldn't tell. Then she put her roses down and started to cry. I knelt down next to her and pulled her into my arms. She cried for a long time, but I didn't mind. Her grief felt like my grief, like she was crying for everyone the cartel had killed, my own victims included.

We stayed at the grave for over an hour, neither of us speaking. I suspected Bella was getting the closure she needed, saying goodbye to Renee before we left Phoenix. As for me, I was just plain talked out. I'd dealt with more people in the last few days than I usually did in a month. The cemetery was quiet, the temperature at this early hour relaxing rather than oppressive, and I was happy to stay as long as Bella needed.

On the walk back to the car, my phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket and was surprised to see it was Phil again. I'd called him this morning to ask him if he knew where Renee was buried, and he'd told me but with impatience in his voice, like I was interrupting him. I hadn't expected to hear from him again, but I was glad he'd called. He'd been so quick to get off the phone that I hadn't had time to tell him I thought he should start looking for a new job.

"Hi, Phil."

"Hey. Listen, sorry I was so short with you this morning. Something had just come up."

"No problem. I'm glad you called me back. There's something I want to tell you."

"Me, too. I mean, something I want to tell you. Something about Phoenix Pharmaceuticals."

I glanced down at Bella, knowing that after this visit to the cemetery we were headed back to the hotel to pack, that we were abandoning our investigation, but I couldn't help myself. "What's that?"

"Another bill."

"Another bill?"

"I found it this morning when I decided to do a cross-check on the company. I was looking into it when you called, but I didn't know anything yet."

"And now you do?"

"Yeah. Get this. First of all, it wasn't for Percocet this time. It was for surgical supplies, quote unquote."

"That's not very specific."

"No kidding. The way things are done around here, the itemizations, you wouldn't believe it. Surgical supplies means nothing because it could be anything."

"And what was it?"

"That's the thing. The invoice had an inventory number on it, but when I cross-checked that, the number was invalid."

"Meaning?" I glanced down at Bella again. Her face was still raw from crying and she was watching me, listening to my side of the conversation.

"Meaning we never actually got anything. I checked every database I have access to. Nothing."

"So they billed you for something they never sent?"

"That's the way it looks."

I turned it over in my mind. Was that the reason for the scam? Not to see if they could peddle fake Percocet, but to see if they could defraud the hospital with phony bills? That didn't make sense to me either.

"Was it only the two bills? The fake Percocet and the nonexistent surgical supplies?"

"Yep, just the two."

"When did the first one come in?"

"Hold on. Let me check the date." I listened to him type. "August 13th.

"And the second one, the one you found today?"

"Holy shit."

"What?"

"It came in on August 22nd."

"So?"

"That's the day Renee was killed."

We were both silent for a minute. "But she wouldn't have known about the second bill, right? You just found it today. Did she have access to your accounting database?"

"No, she didn't have access, so she couldn't have known."

Renee might not have known about the second bill, but it was too much of a coincidence that it arrived the same day she'd been killed. I still didn't have a clue what the cartel was up to, but all my instincts were telling me it was the second bill that got her killed, not the fake Percocet.

"You found the cemetery okay?"

"Huh?" He'd broken my train of thought. "Yeah, thanks. We're just leaving."

He let out a little snort. "Did you say hi for me?"

"I did."

He was silent for another moment. "Look, I don't know who you are, if you're really an insurance investigator or not, but is there any reason I shouldn't tell my supervisor what I've found out?"

"There's a very good reason. Don't."

"Should I call the police?"

"No."

I heard him sigh. "So there's nothing I can do?"

"Find a new job. Now. I mean it. That's what I wanted to tell you."

"Fuck."

"Yeah."

"Okay." He sounded resigned. "Adios, and good luck to you both."

"Same."

He hung up and I put my phone back in my pocket just as we entered the parking lot. "Sorry about that."

"It's okay. What did he say?"

"The cartel's fake pharmaceutical company sent in another bill, this time for something that never entered the hospital's inventory."

"I thought they were selling fake Percocet."

"I thought so, too." I unlocked her door and helped her in. When I got into the driver's seat, the steering wheel was almost too hot to touch. Fuck this place. The sooner I watched Phoenix disappear in my rearview mirror, the better. I wished I could have figured out what had happened to Renee - or rather, why it happened - but I understood Bella's desire to leave. If she were the one putting herself in jeopardy, I'd kidnap her myself to get her out of here.

I started the engine and cranked the air conditioning. "I guess we'll never know!" I had to yell a little over the noise.

"It doesn't matter," she yelled back, and I nodded my agreement.

We were mostly packed and about twenty minutes from being ready to leave when my phone rang again. Another police department prefix, another number I didn't recognize.

"Anthony Platt," I answered, shifting my phone under my chin as I zipped our overcrowded toiletry bag. Bella hadn't taken a single bath here and I wondered if we still needed the bathwash.

"Mr. Platt, this is Captain Lopez, Phoenix Police."

"Yes?"

"I understand you're looking into the death of Renee Swan."

"For my insurance company, yes."

"I have her file here. The death was determined to be suicide by gunshot."

"I know that." I tried to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

"You don't sound convinced."

"I'm not."

"What would it take to convince you? Would you like to come in and look over the file?"

"Would I like to look at the file?" Hell yes, I'd like to look at the file.

"I've got another thirty minutes, maybe forty-five. How soon can you get here?"

I looked at Bella. She had an odd expression on her face – half exasperated, half curious. "Ten minutes."

"Check in at the information desk. They'll page me when you get here."

I hung up and pocketed my phone. "Someone at the police department wants to show me your mom's file."

"I guessed as much. So you're going?"

"I think I should."

"But we already know enough, don't we? And the police are covering it up, so why would they show you the file if it had anything helpful in it?"

"I don't know." She was right, I knew it, but the urge to see the police file was overwhelming. "There might be something, and the more we know, the better I'll feel about your safety after we leave. This is our last chance to get any answers. And who knows - maybe this is the one clean cop left in the department. If he is, he could help get your stuff back." I slung my jacket on. "Do you want to go to the juice bar again?"

"Actually, is it okay if I stay here?"

"Of course it is," I smiled, walking over to her and bending my forehead down to hers, relieved that she wasn't going to argue with me. "It's about time you started obeying me."

She punched me lightly on the arm, then grabbed my jacket and pulled me closer. "If you're going to be gone a while, I can do some laundry before we leave. That's all."

"Finally. Obedient and doing my laundry." I smirked and kissed her nose.

"I didn't say whose laundry. Just for that, I'm only doing mine."

I hugged her tightly, giving her rear a light swat. "Naughty girl."

She wiggled in my arms, laughing. "Oh, now you've done it. No one spanks me and gets away with it."

"Oh, no? What are you going to do about it?"

"This." She pulled me down for a long, deep kiss, her hands tracing over my shoulders, then down my back. I felt her cup my ass and pull my hips into hers while she pressed against me, arching her back. Her mouth moved to my ear and she sucked on my earlobe, her hot little tongue working in slow circles, her breasts pressing on my chest. I let out an involuntary groan. "And this," she whispered, suddenly letting me go with a decisive little push. "See you when you get back, tiger." She winked as she went into the bathroom and closed the door.

I was still chuckling as I parked in the lot at the police department. It'd taken longer than ten minutes to get here and I hurried inside the building. There was a line of people in the lobby waiting to go through metal detectors, and I was immediately thankful I hadn't thought to bring my gun. I'd also forgotten to put on my glasses but when I reached for my breast pocket, I realized I'd thrown on my leather jacket instead of my sport coat. Oh well. Anthony Platt was leaving Phoenix in mere hours. It hardly mattered what I looked like at this point.

By the time I got through security, it was almost twenty minutes after Office Lopez had called. I gave his name to the receptionist at the information desk and asked her to page him, expecting him to appear shortly. The time drew on, however, and I found myself rifling through a magazine as I waited. And waited.

"Mr. Platt? I'm Captain Lopez. Sorry to have kept you waiting." Lopez was one of those guys who looked younger than they were. His hair already had some grey in it, but his smile was boyish and open.

"No problem."

"Something came up, but if you'll follow me, I have the file in an interview room." He gave me a friendly smile and led me down a hallway. "So, you work for an insurance company?"

"That's right."

He opened a door and ushered me into a small room with a table and two chairs. There was a closed manila file on the table. He gestured for me to sit in one of the chairs and he took the other. "Do you have a business card?"

"Of course." I pulled out my wallet and handed him one.

"Western Life and Trust. Never heard of it."

"We're small, and fairly new."

"Based in Sacramento."

"That's right." Bella had made up the address at Kinko's.

"Well, I have to commend your thoroughness. When Trooper Peterson told me he'd met with you about the Swan case, I was surprised to hear it."

"Why?"

"Most insurance policies don't pay out for suicides, right? I thought it was odd that your company was bothering to investigate."

"Ms. Swan had an unusual policy. We'll have to pay if it was a suicide, but we might be off the hook if we can prove otherwise."

"Who's your client, if you don't mind my asking?"

"An ex," I answered without hesitation. "He took the policy out a couple of years ago."

"Interesting." He looked at the card again, his mood contemplative. "Ex-husband or ex-boyfriend?"

"Fiancé."

"Ah, fiancé. I wonder why they broke up."

Something about this was starting to bother me. He'd been in a hurry for me to come down here, but now he seemed to be stalling. I gestured to the file. "Do you mind if I take a look?"

"Of course not. That's why I called you. Unfortunately for your company, however, Ms. Swan clearly committed suicide. See for yourself."

I'd never read a police file before and didn't know what to expect – didn't know what it should or should not contain. But for a violent death, the file seemed thin. The trooper reports were both there, and a few more from investigators. An inventory of the crime scene had a gun entered on it, but that didn't prove anything. There was no record of a phone call from the convenience store clerk, just another communications log showing phone calls from Marlene. The last piece of paper was the ME's report.

I looked up at Lopez, his boyish expression gone. He knew the file had been cleaned up and fixed to look like a suicide. I could see it in his eyes.

I rose to go, trying to keep my demeanor professional. "Well, it certainly does look like a suicide now that I've seen the whole file."

"Do you want to wait while I make a copy for you?"

"No, that won't be necessary."

"Really, it's no trouble. Surely you'll have to show your bosses some documentation."

"I can just write up my findings. Thank you for your time." I was half way out the door and he was still trying to make conversation. Fuck, how could I have been so stupid?

I walked out of the building at a normal pace, but jogged to the car, pulling out my phone as I got in and dialing Bella. She answered on the second ring.

"Edward?"

"Thank god you're all right."

"What's wrong?"

"Has anyone come by?"

"No, no one."

"Don't answer the door. Don't make a noise if anyone comes to the door. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"What's going on? What happened?"

"It was a set-up." I put the car in reverse, driving with one hand while I explained to Bella that the police didn't have anything to show me, but that they'd seemed to be keeping me there.

"I don't know if they know where we're staying, but all I could think of was that they were going to search my hotel room." All I could think of was Bella alone, unprotected. "Lock the door and slide the chain. I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Okay."

I made it in six. "Bella, it's me," I knocked once and she opened the door immediately. I wrapped my arms around her and held her for a minute or two, feeling myself relax. "Did anyone come?"

"No."

I let out a deep breath. Maybe I'd panicked over nothing. Maybe I'd just imagined that Lopez was stalling. No, my instincts weren't wrong. He'd been trying to keep me there – but why?

Bella looked up at me, reading my face. "Are they on to you?"

"I don't know."

"We should go."

"Yeah."

She pulled herself out of my arms. "I just have to get the clothes out of the dryer."

"Leave them."

"I don't want you to have to buy me any more clothes. I'll be back in a second." She slipped out of the door before I could stop her.

I took another breath and focused my mind on getting out of here. Our suitcases were open in the bedroom, awaiting the last of the laundry. I did a quick scan of the bathroom and kitchen to make sure we weren't leaving behind anything important, but it looked like we had everything. We could leave as soon as Bella returned.

I heard a knock on the door. "It's me. I forgot my card." Bella's voice was urgent and I rushed to let her in. She was empty-handed, but it was obvious why she hadn't brought back the laundry. Behind her stood Mala, his gun held to her head.

"Edward! It's so nice to see you again. May I come in?"

**A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger, but there was just no way I couldn't end it here. If it's any consolation, the next chapter is pretty solid and I have a lot of free time tomorrow. Hope you liked it, even though it was a bit short. - kts **


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

The bodyguards came in first, frisking me this time and checking to make sure no one else was in the room. Mala waited for them to finish, his eyes on mine.

"Edward." He shook his head. "I'm so disappointed."

I didn't answer him. I looked from his eyes to Bella's. She was scared, and I had to remain calm for her sake.

"You were supposed to take care of this problem for me." He looked down at her and smiled. "But here she is, and prettier than ever." I watched him cup her hip and gritted my teeth. "You've even managed to put a little weight on her. Much better." He looked back at me. "What happened, Edward? Did she plead for her life? Did she cry? Did she promise you anything if you let her live?" His eyes moved to the bedroom and our open luggage. "Ah, it looks like we arrived just in time."

"How did you find us?"

"Oh, my friend, finding you was easy. We followed you back from the police department."

I swallowed in disbelief at my own stupidity. I'd been so afraid that they'd gotten to Bella that I'd led them straight here.

He must have read the futile rage on my face. "Don't be too hard on yourself, Edward. If it makes you feel any better, until a moment ago, I thought my pretty little niña really was dead, and until I saw you leaving the police department, I thought you were long gone as well. You should have been long gone, Edward."

So we had a small advantage – he was as surprised to see us as we were him. "You fell for the pictures?"

"They were very realistic, I must say. My boss thought so, too." He made a gesture with his head. "Sit down, please."

I backed up to the sofa, keeping my eyes on Bella. The two bodyguards moved to stand on either side of me. I knew they were both armed, but doubted I could grab one of their guns before the other one shot me. My own gun was still hanging in the closet under my sport coat, completely useless.

Mala walked with Bella into the living room as well. "This is really fascinating to me. Both of you here, together, and you pretending to be an insurance agent or something. You really must explain yourselves."

Bella locked her jaw even tighter, keeping her eyes on mine. She didn't want to answer, but our best option was to keep Mala talking.

"We wanted to know what happened to Bella's mother."

"We?" He said the word to himself. "We?" He turned toward Bella. "You and Edward? You're with him?" He snorted in disgust, his face changing. "I wasn't good enough for you, but Edward is?" He yanked her to him roughly, deliberately trying to hurt her. I clenched my fists, ready to throw myself at him if he did it again, bodyguards be damned.

"He kills people for money. That's what he does. It's his nature." For a second it felt like time had stopped, like I was hearing the voice inside my head speak through Mala. I looked at Bella. Her eyes were on mine, her expression intense, like she was trying to tell me something. I couldn't read it, didn't recognize it. Then she spoke for the first time.

"I know."

Mala put his gun under her chin, turning her face up to his.

"He's nothing like you, Mala. He's weak. Indecisive." I watched her turn her body more into his. "I missed you."

"You missed me?"

She nodded. "I thought more and more about your offer after you left Juanita's, and I wanted to take you up on it. But I didn't know how to contact you, and then Edward made me leave with him. I didn't have a choice." She sounded so sincere, but when she brought her hands together and deftly transferred her ring to another finger, I knew what she'd been trying to tell me with her eyes – she was going to try to act her way out of this. But how, for god's sake?

"But you're here with him now."

"I got him to come here. He didn't want to – he was going to take me back to Chicago with him – but he's weak, like I said. It was easy to convince him to come here instead."

"Why is he asking questions about your mother?" Mala hadn't taken his eyes off Bella's face since she'd first turned to him.

She bit her lip and looked up at him with a small smile. "It was the only thing I could think of that would get him to agree to come back here. I know you didn't mean to shoot my mom, that it was an accident."

He looked at her for a long time. She kept her expression steady although I noticed she'd stiffened a bit, as if she were holding her breath. Then his eyes narrowed and a small smile of his own appeared. "An accident. Yes."

"I wanted to find you, Mala. That's the real reason I came back to Phoenix."

"It looks to me like you two are on your way out of town."

"No, we're just going to another hotel. Edward gets nervous if we stay in one place too long. I had to play along so we could stay in Phoenix." She kept her eyes on Mala, her expression still supplicant. "I want to be your pajarita again. Please?"

"My pajarita." Mala's mood changed again and he smiled down at her fondly, his hold on her relaxing, his fingers creeping up into her hair. His caresses were almost harder to bear than when he was hurting her.

"Please take me with you, Mala."

"Rico."

"Rico," she repeated, smiling up at him, her lips parted with happiness, one of her hands coming up to his chest.

"So my pajarita flew away, only to return to her true master." He traced her jaw with the barrel of his gun. "Your freedom suited you. You look almost radiant. I'll have to set you up somewhere nicer than Juanita's this time."

"Oh, Rico." Bella threw her arms around him and buried her head in his chest.

"Does anyone know that you're alive?" He was all business again.

"No, Rico, I promise. Edward's the only one who knows."

Mala jerked his head at one of the bodyguards. "Take care of him." Meaning me.

"You're going to kill him?" Bella didn't sound nearly as concerned as I thought she should.

"Of course I am, my dear. He's a loose end."

She made a distasteful face. "Can we leave first?"

Fucking hell, had I read this whole thing wrong? Was she really leaving with him? I knew she could act when she had to, but this was so real, too real, and it cut at me deeply. Had Bella been playing me? Did she jump from one opportunity to the next, taking whatever looked best at that moment? Was she really leaving me here to be killed?

Mala chuckled and pulled her closer. "Of course, my pretty girl." He lowered his gun and turned, pulling her by the hand.

"I just have to get my purse."

"You don't want to bring your suitcase?"

She snorted in derision. "No way. You wouldn't believe the ugly clothes he made me buy." She turned into the bedroom without a look back.

I decided in that instant to trust her. She kept her purse in the closet, and she knew my gun was under my coat. If she didn't come back out with my gun, I'd be wrong – and dead – but I tensed all my muscles, ready to tackle the bodyguards as soon as she reappeared.

She came back out with her purse. "Ready," she smiled at Mala, slinging it over her shoulder, not looking at me.

My body slackened involuntarily. I'd been wrong. I felt myself sinking into the couch, not caring if I was going to die on it tonight. I'd been wrong.

Mala put his arm over her shoulder and moved her toward the door. "Oh, wait, Rico," she said, "let me make sure I have my phone." She frowned and dug into her purse. "Ah, here it is."

In one smooth motion, she pulled out my gun and pointed it at his head while stepping out of his reach. "Drop your gun, motherfucker." When he didn't instantly obey, she cocked the trigger. "I know how to use this. If you don't drop your gun right now, I am going to blow your fucking head off." She was so smart, so fucking smart. She'd engineered this so that Mala's bodyguards were behind him, his body shielding her from their shots. Both of them had reached into their coats but there wasn't enough time to draw.

He turned his head back toward us, the look on his face one of total disbelief. I knew because I'd felt that way just a moment ago, but now I was resurgent. Bella had done it, and by god I wasn't going to let her down.

Mala's face changed again. It hardened. He wasn't going to be brought down by a woman, I could tell. He was going to take the chance that she didn't know what she was doing. That's where he made his mistake. He underestimated Bella.

In the same instant that he began turn and raise his gun, she lowered mine and fired, hitting him in the chest. I hauled up and threw every ounce of my weight first into one bodyguard and then the other, then dove for Mala's gun. When I had it and looked back up, the bodyguards were regaining their balance and Mala was writhing on the floor.

"You two. Drop your weapons. Now." Bella's voice was firm and her hand steady as she aimed the gun at them. She cocked it again. "I said _now_."

I stood over Mala, keeping his gun trained on him, as I watched Bella handle the bodyguards. After they'd dropped their weapons on the floor, she told them to go sit on the floor under the window. She picked up their guns, giving one of the men a dirty look, and put them on the coffee table. "Don't either of you move a muscle. I'm a faster draw than you'd care to find out." She knelt in front of the table and put my gun down, keeping her eyes on the men as she quickly emptied their guns, pocketing the rounds as she stood back up.

"Edward. Help me." Mala was clutching the left side of his chest, his shirt growing crimson. Bella's shot had probably punctured a lung, but it wouldn't be fatal unless he bled to death.

I looked down at him and cocked his gun, pointing it at his head. With one little motion of my finger, a motion I'd made over a dozen times without a second's hesitation, he would be dead and all of Bella's problems would be over. She could get her scholarship, go back to school under her own name, collect the proceeds of Renee's estate, and most importantly, not have to live in fear for the rest of her life. I'd never had better reasons to kill someone before in my life. I took a breath and focused the gun directly in the middle of Mala's forehead.

"No, Edward, don't." Bella had my gun trained on the bodyguards but she was watching me.

"It solves everything, Bella."

"I don't want you to do it."

I glanced up her. "I didn't look for him. I kept my promise. But he's here, and this is the only way to get your life back."

"No," she shook her head. "I don't want you to kill anyone else, ever, and especially not for me."

I turned my attention back to Mala. "You are the luckiest son of a bitch that ever lived. Next to me, that is."

He sneered up at me. "Taking your orders from a puta, now, Edward? You disappoint me again. I had big plans for us." His expression changed. "It's not too late, Edward. We could put this behind us. My cartel is about to start making a lot of money. I can get you a job." His breath seemed to give out and he clutched his chest again.

"A job?" I almost laughed. "A job doing what? Billing hospitals for fake Percocet? That sounds fun."

"There's so much money in it. Once we get our system perfected, once we're ready to move into South America." His breathing was getting shallower by the minute, but he wasn't giving up. "So much money, Edward."

"In Percocet," I answered sarcastically.

"Every hospital uses it, around the world."

"And the unreceived surgical supplies? How long can your cartel get away with that?"

His face went blank, his eyes darting in the direction of the bodyguards.

Oh. Oh, oh, oh, my little fucking god. Suddenly I got it, I got it all. Mala was skimming, running his own scam. The fake Percocet thing was something the cartel was doing, but the second bill, the non-existent surgical supplies, that was Mala. He was dirty.

I knelt down. "Mala, tell me again how your wife loves to gamble in Las Vegas, how much it costs to send your daughters to private school. And all those native artworks back in your hacienda – those things don't come cheap, do they?" I poked him in the chest and watched him wince. "Did the cartel even order a hit on Bella's mom, or was that just you?"

He stared back at me with a look of cold fury, refusing to answer.

I continued anyway. "She'd found out about the Percocet, but that wasn't what got her killed, was it? You were afraid she'd find out about your little side project, too. Even if your contacts inside the hospital managed to bury the invoices, you were worried that your boss would find out about the second bill you sent in."

Something new flickered across his face, something close to panic, and I knew I'd just solved our problem.

"Where's your phone?"

"I don't have a phone."

"Yes, you do." I felt around in his pockets and easily located it. "I think I should call your boss. Ask him what I should do." I accessed his contacts but quickly realized I had no idea who to call. "Would you like to call him for me?"

"Fuck you."

"That's what I thought. Bella, get one of the guys to dial the boss, and then bring the phone back to me."

She came and got the phone, taking it to the one she didn't like. "Dial the boss or I'll hit you on the head so hard you won't have to play dead."

He took the phone and punched a few buttons, giving it back to her, and she returned it to me. I smiled up at her as handed it to me, and she smiled back, her chocolate eyes mine again.

I held the phone up to my ear and listened to it ring. Finally, someone answered. "Rico?"

"No, this isn't Rico. This is Edward Cullen."

"Do I know you?" The voice on the other end was deeper than Mala's, and more heavily accented.

"No, you don't. But I know Rico, and he's right here. Unfortunately, he's been shot."

"Shot? Is he dead?"

"No. I think the bullet punctured his lung, though. He may bleed to death."

"Why aren't you calling an ambulance? Why are you calling me?"

"I want to talk to you about a few things." I kept my tone of voice conversational. Bella had just acted her heart out and now it was my turn to bluff as if our lives depended on it. Because they did. "Rico is one of your top men, am I right?"

"Who are you again?"

"Edward Cullen. And you are?"

There was a pause. "You can call me Carlos."

"Carlos, I called you because I thought you should know that Rico here has been skimming off your Percocet scam. He's been sending the hospital invoices for surgical supplies that never arrived."

"I don't believe you."

"I can prove it. He's a loose cannon, your Rico. Didn't you suspect anything?"

"He's a good man. Loyal."

Carlos wasn't buying it. What else did I have? "So loyal that he called me to do a hit for him? A hit he was supposed to do himself?"

"What hit?"

"The girl at the brothel."

"He did that himself. I have the photos. Who are you again?"

"Just a small-time hit-man. But Rico made a mistake." I poked him again, getting him to open his eyes and look at me. "He asked me to do a woman."

"He hired you to take care of the girl?"

"Yep. But I didn't do it."

"I don't understand. I have the photos. She's dead."

"No she isn't. She's right here. Say hi to Carlos, Bella." I held the phone up as Bella gave him a cheerful hello.

I brought the phone back to my ear, everything suddenly making sense. "Rico was supposed to kill her a few days after he'd kidnapped her, wasn't he?"

"Yes, that's what I told him to do. Take her into the desert and make her disappear."

I looked at Mala. "He didn't. He kept her alive, hoping she'd respond to his advances."

"And how can you prove this?"

I searched my brain. There had to be something. I glanced over at Bella, who smiled at me encouragingly. That smile, the same one as Renee's … that photo of them at the beach. "Do you have the phone that has the photos of her death?"

"Yes, I have it."

"There must be some way to see when they taken. Not a date stamp, but something in the phone's database. They were taken less than two weeks ago."

"Just a minute."

I heard him put the phone down and turned my attention back to Mala. He was about the same, his breathing still shallow, his eyes murderous when they were open.

"September 18th," Carlos said under his breath, returning to the phone. "That son of a bitch."

"Probably not promotion material, no."

"What do you want?" Carlos' voice turned to business.

"A trade. I'll give you Rico if you give me Bella."

"It sounds like you already have her."

"She's been pretending to be dead so that Rico wouldn't come after her again. I want the cartel to back off, let her return to her life."

"She's an inconvenience to us. A witness."

"She's not going to tell anyone what happened to her mother."

"I've heard promises like that before. What are you going to do if I say no?"

"I'm going to kill Rico and his bodyguards." I looked into Mala's face while I said it, wanting him to know that it was up to me, that's what I'd do.

"Maybe that's just as well. Saves me the trouble."

"But you'll never know how much he's stolen over the years, what other side projects he's got set up, who else might be involved." I gave him a moment to absorb that. "And I'm going to dump their bodies somewhere public with proof of the Percocet scam."

"You know, we have friends in the police department in Phoenix now."

"I'm well aware of that. I was thinking the feds might be interested, though." I had no idea if the cartel had extended its reach into the FBI, but that's why it was called bluffing. "It'd be horrible for your cartel if three members' dead bodies were found outside the federal building, or maybe outside a newspaper … just imagine the field day the press would have with that, and right when your cartel is on the brink of going straight."

Carlos was silent for several moments. "You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Cullen. I'm inclined to accept your offer, but there's one small problem."

"What's that?"

"How do I know I can trust you? If I promise to leave the girl alone, how do I know she won't eventually go to the police?"

"I'm standing here with a gun pointed at Rico's forehead, watching him bleed out. I could have finished him off, and believe me I wanted to, but I called you instead. That's how you can trust me. Now I suggest you make up your mind before it's too late."

"All right. Fine. What do you want me to do?"

"Call your contacts in the police department and arrange for Bella to get her stuff back. We'll pick it up in the morning on our way out of town. You'll never hear from us again."

"I'd better not, Mr. Cullen. I'd better not. If we ever cross paths again, I won't be so accommodating."

"Neither will I. Pleasure doing business with you, Carlos. I'll have the bodyguards bring you Rico."

"Let me talk to one of them."

I handed the phone to Bella, who gave it to one of the men. He spoke in Spanish, but the fear and respect in his voice would have been evident in any language. He hung up after a few minutes and moved to get up. Bella kept my gun on them as they bent over Rico.

"You don't have to do this," Rico opened his eyes and looked at his men. "I have money. Take me to a hospital. You can say I escaped."

Neither made eye contact with him as they hoisted him roughly to his feet. "Sorry, boss. Carlos wants to see you." A minute later, they were gone.

I stayed where I was, adjusting to the sudden silence, my body draining adrenaline. Bella must have been feeling the same way. She was taking deep breaths, her eyes wide. Then she seemed to realize she was still holding my gun, and she dropped it to the floor. I put mine down, too, and moved toward her. Her hands were around my shoulders before I'd finished circling her waist, and we held on to each other tightly, ferociously, for so long I lost track of time.

"Are you okay?" I finally whispered into her hair.

She nodded, not letting go. Then she shook her head, and held me tighter, burying her face in my shirt.

"It's over, baby. You did it."

She gave what felt like a laugh but was maybe a sob. "I didn't do it. You did it."

"We did it."

She nodded again, and I felt her take a deep breath, pulling herself back together. She lifted her head and looked up me, her beautiful eyes full of relief, and yes, love. "So we leave tomorrow?"

I nodded. "I want you to have your things back from the police first."

Her eyes moved over to where Mala had been laying. "I can't stay here tonight."

I looked over my shoulder at the bloodstain. "We can go to a different hotel."

"No."

"No?"

"We can go to my mom's house." She smiled up me. "Right?"

I cupped her face, drawing her up to me. She was alive again. "Right."

**A/N: I promised not to leave you hanging - the only reason I was mean enough to leave the last chapter where I did was because I knew I could get this one up today. So, forgive me?**

**On that note, however, I've decided the story needs a bit more fleshing out as we approach the end, so the next chapter may take a couple of days. I promise I'll get it done as soon as possible, though. You guys can trust me ;)**

**Thanks again, everyone.**

**- kts**


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

The ride to Renee's house was quiet. Bella spent most of it looking out her window with her hand up to her mouth, worrying at her lower lip.

"What's wrong?"

She didn't answer and I started to get a sinking feeling that maybe I'd been right all along, that she'd seen the real me and been repulsed.

"I wanted to kill him." She didn't turn her head, her eyes still out her window.

"You did?"

"Yes. I've never felt that way before about anyone, about any living thing."

"Then why did you tell me not to?"

She finally turned her head toward me. "I couldn't do it. And if I couldn't do it myself, there was no way I'd let you do it for me." She took a deep breath and let it out. "The look on his face when I first drew on him – you couldn't see it, but it was the same expression he had the time he threw me on the ground and kicked me. I wanted to kill him in that second. I wanted him to be dead."

"Bella, it's okay."

She raised her hands to her face, her fingers trembling. "I've never felt that way before."

"And you never will again." I reached over and put my hand on her leg, rubbing her thigh in reassurance. "Nothing like this will ever happen again in your life."

"Promise?" Her voice was so quiet, I barely heard her.

"I promise."

She put her hand on mine and laced our fingers together, squeezing my hand tightly. "I promise, Bella," I repeated, the words a vow. She closed her eyes and nodded.

When we got to Renee's house, the first thing Bella unpacked was the bathwash. "He touched me again," was all she offered as she headed upstairs. I heard water running a second later, and went into the kitchen to try to put together a dinner with some of the groceries we'd brought along. It was a good thing Bella needed a long soak, because finding anything in Renee's kitchen took twice as long as it should have. I was starting to feel some sympathy for Charlie.

Charlie, who'd taught Bella how to use her knee, how to get in the first blow, and most importantly, how to use a gun. I wished I could have met him. I wished I could have met Renee, too.

Bella was quiet during dinner as well. She seemed lost in her thoughts, glancing up at me occasionally from her plate. I didn't try to make conversation, though. She'd tell me what she was thinking when she was ready.

"I still can't quite believe it."

"What?"

"That it's over."

"Almost. We have a few more things to do."

"Always thinking ahead, aren't you?"

"When I should be looking over my shoulder." I shook my head. I still couldn't believe how stupid I'd been, leaving the police department without a glance in my rear view mirror.

"Edward, don't blame yourself for that. You were worried about me."

"I know, but still. I led him straight to you."

"And then you took care of him. How did you figure it out, about the scam he was running?"

"Just luck really. When I asked him about it, he made a face like he didn't want his bodyguards to know. That's when it clicked."

"You were amazing on the phone. When you thought of the date of the photos – that's when Carlos began to believe you, wasn't it?"

I nodded and took a bite of my burger. She toyed with her french fries for a minute, then looked back up at me.

"Do you think Carlos will keep his word?"

I shrugged. "He sounded sincere. We should keep our end of the bargain, though, just in case."

"So we leave tomorrow?"

I nodded, scanning her face. Now that she was free to return to her life, she could make her own decisions. Would she still want to come to Chicago with me?

I watched a tiny smile cross her lips. "Oh, Edward," she sighed. "The answer is yes, obviously."

"Yes?"

"Yes. I want to come with you. Be with you. Unless your apartment is a horrible dive, you're stuck me for at least a little longer."

I smiled in relief, chiding myself for doubting her again.

"Besides, you told me once that we were partners until I got somewhere safe."

"Safe is anywhere now."

"Safe is wherever you are." She leaned forward and kissed me.

That night we slept in her room, in her single bed. Renee's bed was bigger, but Bella felt it was too weird to sleep in her mom's room. I didn't mind, I thought, pulling her into my arms as I got comfortable. In little more than two weeks, I'd gone from not being able to sleep with her in the same room, to not being able to sleep if I wasn't touching her, if she wasn't touching me.

"Edward," she whispered, just as I was starting to drift off.

"Hmm?"

"I didn't mean any of those things I said about you."

"I know."

"I don't think you're weak."

"I know, Bella."

"You're one of the strongest people I've ever known."

I flexed my arms, drawing her even closer. "I'm a tiger."

She giggled and turned her face into my chest. "Maybe I was wrong about that. Maybe you're a bear. A cuddly teddy bear."

"Make up your mind, woman. You're clearly the indecisive one, not me."

She smiled up at me before closing her eyes and settling in on my chest. "About some things, maybe. Not others." I felt her trace a finger over my ring.

In the morning I woke first, and slipped downstairs to make coffee and get started on a list of the things we needed to do this morning.

"Hey, handsome." I hadn't heard Bella come in and turned. She was still in her nightgown, her hair disheveled, her eyes sleepy. She'd never looked more gorgeous.

"Hey, beautiful."

"What are you doing?" She brought a cup of coffee to the table and stood behind me, resting her other hand on the back of my neck.

"Making a list." I held it up to her, slipping my arm around her waist. "Am I forgetting anything?"

She scanned it quickly. "Are you going to call all of these people?"

"I told them all I would."

"Harold, Ramirez, Marlene … Juanita?"

"Sure, why not? She'll be glad to know you're all right."

"And you think you're bad at trusting people."

"What?"

"All of these people helped us, and you had to trust each of them."

I thought about that for a minute. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"I am right. Admit it."

"Yes, ma'am," I smiled up and her, and she bent down to kiss me lightly before sitting down and pulling the list closer.

"A probate attorney?"

"You should hire one to handle your mom's estate. He or she can find out what's happening with the house, and take over for you."

She nodded, but frowned at the last thing on the list. "The police department."

"To get your things."

She didn't answer me at first, her brows furrowing. "I don't really need any of that stuff."

"You don't want your clothes, your books, your computer?"

"The probate attorney can handle it, maybe? Have it all shipped to me?"

"Probably, but it'd be easier to get it this morning. I was just about to call the evidence room."

She drummed her fingers on the list. "I'm probably being paranoid, but I'd rather not go."

"I can go for you."

"That's even worse."

"What do you think is going to happen?"

She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. "I got this weird idea last night when I was falling asleep. I was thinking about what was going to happen to Mala, about how Carlos was most likely going to kill him."

I nodded. It was more than likely.

"And then I thought about his body turning up somewhere with a bullet it in from your gun." She looked up at me. "It occurred to me how easy it would be to frame you for his murder, how the cartel could get rid of you that way."

"That seems a little farfetched." But smart, I'd give her that.

"I know, but now I can't get the idea out of my head." She smiled, looking a little embarrassed. "I worked the whole thing out – the police would cover for the cartel of course, and maybe they'd even be able to link you to some of your other jobs."

"My gun's not registered, so I don't think that's possible."

"But if they find it on you, it won't matter." She paused and looked down at her coffee cup. "I'd just rather not go back to the police, I think."

"It's up to you. It's your stuff."

"Then I'll leave it. Let's take care of the other things on the list, and then we can go. I won't feel like I can relax until we're on the road."

There wasn't much edible food left in the house. I found some frozen waffles and started toasting them while I filled a garbage bag with things that had gone bad, or that wouldn't keep. Bella had gone upstairs to get dressed, and came down with our luggage.

"You really are in a hurry."

"I can't help it. I don't want to leave this house, but I don't want to stay any longer than we have to."

"We can make the phone calls from the road," I smiled, handing her a plate of waffles, "and we can be out of here as soon as you're done eating."

She nodded and took her first bite while I emptied the garbage and went through the house, making sure all the windows and doors were locked from the inside, and that all the lights were off. When I came back downstairs, she was standing in the family room, looking at the photos in the Bella shrine.

I watched her run a finger over a photo of her dad holding her when she was a baby, and then move her finger to the one of her mom at the beach in Florida. "Good-bye, mom. I'll always love you, and I'll never forget you. Not for a second. I promise."

I put a hand on Bella's shoulder and looked at her parent's faces, wishing again that I could have met them. Bella'd been so lucky to have Charlie and Renee, but then I'd been lucky, too. The Cullens had treated me well, especially Esme, and I swore then and there that not only would Bella get to meet them, but that I'd take them back into my life. If they'd have me.

Bella sighed and leaned back against me. "This is so hard, saying good-bye."

"You can bring the photos with us, and anything else you want. There's plenty of room in the car."

She shook her head. "I need to start again, start fresh. I'll have them shipped to me, but right now I need to think about the future, not the past."

I thought about Bella's words as we left Phoenix. She was starting her life over, in a new city, with a man she'd only known for a couple of weeks. That took courage, and no small amount of strength. It also took a lot of trust. Something switched inside of me at the realization. I was done doubting her. She was smart, probably smarter than me, and was more than capable of making her own decisions. If she chose to be with me, then I was going to quit looking for reasons she shouldn't.

When I stopped to gas up at the outskirts of Mesa, a Home Depot across the street caught my eye. I pulled into the parking lot and told Bella I'd be back in five minutes, that I only had to get a couple of things. She'd been resting, finally beginning to relax, and nodded without opening her eyes.

I put the bag in the back seat when I returned.

"What'd you get?"

"Just some things I need."

She swiveled in her seat to see what I'd bought as I pulled out my phone, bringing up Google maps. "A brick and some duct tape?"

"Yep."

"What are you looking for on your phone?"

"A river or a lake, whatever's closest."

"What are you doing?"

"You'll see."

"Don't tell me this whole thing was orchestrated so that you could finally do away with me."

She was kidding, but there was a suspicious note in her voice and I couldn't help but tease her. "I have some dead weight to get rid of." I pulled onto the highway. "Something I should have gotten rid of a long time ago."

"Dead weight?"

"So dead."

"I can't tell if you're joking."

"I'm not."

I turned onto 188, and headed up into Tonto National Park. It wasn't long before the lake appeared on the horizon. Big and deep. Perfect.

There was a bridge that ran over a narrow span of the lake, and I parked the Buick at its base. "Come with me?"

Bella nodded and got out, coming around to my side of the car. She watched me pull my gun out of our bag and tape it to the brick. We walked together out onto the bridge.

I looked down at the water, then at Bella. "It's time for me to think about the future, too." I chucked my gun out as far as I could, watching it plop into the water and disappear. "It's time to start over."

**A/N: This is a new chapter, one I wrote over the weekend to hopefully flesh out the story a little bit. I didn't pass it by my betas, so all errors are on me. But what I mostly want to say is that the story's over; I have an epilogue that I'll be posting soon, but I just can't draw this out any longer than I have. To me, the story culminated like a movie in my head with the last chapter. There aren't enough loose ends to justify more chapters. I could keep their relationship going, but to what end? At some point the writer has to stop writing, and the reader's imagination has to take over. So, please, imagine what you will.**


	25. Epilogue

Epilogue

"Nothing rhymes with Bella."

"No, not much. 'Bella is so awesome,' I sang, 'she's so swansome.'"

"Swansome? Oh my god." She threw her head back, laughing. "I wanted to hear your best song, not your worst."

"It's not my fault your name is Bella." I strummed my guitar, picking out other notes, and sang again. "If Bella were a fella, she'd be my one true bro."

She collapsed on herself with the giggles. God, I loved making her laugh. "Like Cinderella fought off salmonella with citronella, that's how I've come to know," I crooned.

"That doesn't even make sense." She was laughing so hard, she was struggling to breathe.

"Yes, it does. It's metaphysical."

"You mean metaphorical," she wiped at her eyes, still laughing, "and if you think that's a metaphor, then it's a good thing we're not going to have to rely on your earnings as a songwriter." She grinned up at me. "That was a simile."

I grinned back, changing chords and picking up the pace. "Bella's going to be a vet, we're gonna get a pet. Bella's gonna have a house, our pet will be a mouse … I'll give her everything she wants, I'll give her everything she needs … she'll have the world's biggest bathtub, where I'll bring her coffees ..." I drew out the last syllable, making it fit the cadence. Bella's smile softened as I finished. "And it's not because she's beautiful, not because she's smart. We could leave and wander endlessly, because my home is in her heart."

"Did you just make that up?"

"Yep." I put my guitar down and put my arm around her shoulder, pulling her against my side while I covered her hands with my free one, rubbing them for warmth.

"I think that's my favorite thing you've ever played."

I kissed the top of her head and looked out over the water. "Are you sure you didn't mind not going out on the boat?"

"No, not at all. I'm not really a boat person either."

We watched as Carlisle began tacking into the wind, taking the sailboat further from shore. Rose turned and waved to us. I waved back and it wasn't long before they were too far out to see.

"Does Carlisle being in the Navy have something to do with why you don't like boats?" She asked me after a few moments.

I pulled her closer, noticing the wind was picking up. "Maybe. He took me out once the first year I lived with them, and I got horribly sick. He stopped trying to bond with me shortly after that."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I know."

We fell back into a comfortable silence, the only sounds the wind and the gulls.

She stirred a bit. "I like the Pacific Ocean better."

"You like the Pacific Ocean better than the Atlantic?" I smiled into her hair as she nodded.

"It has a better vibe."

"A better vibe."

"That's what I said." She glanced up at me with a look on her face that I knew well enough by now. Bella didn't like to be teased about her opinions, and I'd learned over the past few months to merely nod and accept them. I didn't want her to ever feel like she couldn't tell me what she was thinking.

Returning Bella to her life had returned me to mine. She was the reason I got up in the morning, the reason I went to bed at night. She was everything to me, and in such a small space of time, it boggled my mind. But I loved it, loved her. I loved everything about her.

A gust of wind blew her hair up into my face and I glanced at the sky. Even though it was an unusually balmy day for Baltimore in December, Bella might be getting chilled and want to head in soon. I'd better get to it.

"Bella," I cleared my throat, my stomach suddenly a knot, "I know we said no gifts, but there's something I want to give you."

She turned her face to mine with a slight frown. "Our trip here is supposed to be our Christmas gift to each other. That was the deal. I don't have anything for you."

"Oh, there's something you can give me."

"What?"

"A yes." I got off the bench and knelt in front of her, taking her left hand off her lap. I slipped off the band she still wore and watched her face while I reached into my pocket for the diamond ring. "Bella, the week we spent in Mexico pretending to be married – I thought that was the happiest week of my life, but I was wrong. Every day with you has just made me happier. I don't want to pretend any more. Will you marry me?" I began sliding on the ring as her eyes widened in recognition.

"Is that the same ring?"

"Yeah."

"You sneaky devil. That's why we had to stop in Albuquerque on the way to Chicago? I had no idea. You said it was about your phone." She stretched her fingers, her eyes on her hand. "Wait, you already knew you were going to propose?"

"I was ninety-nine percent sure."

"So, just in case?" She smiled and bit her lip, still looking down.

"Just in case. I wanted you to have that one," I gestured to the ring, "but if you'd rather have something different -"

"Oh no, this is perfect. It's perfect, Edward. But can I have my band back?"

I gave it to her and watched her put it on over the diamonds.

"I'll wear them both." She finally looked up me with a radiant smile that quickly changed to concern. "What's wrong?"

I must have been showing my anxiety. "You haven't answered me."

"Oh!" She threw her arms around my shoulders and cradled my head to her chest. "Yes, yes, yes, Edward. Yes, of course I'll marry you."

I pulled her to me as tightly as I could, relief flooding over me. I'd been pretty sure she'd say yes, but to finally know – I felt like yelling my joy up to the clouds. No, higher than that. To the stars.

I got a handle on my emotions and pulled away to look up at her. "You're sure it's not too soon?"

She shook her head. "I knew right away, too, and the feeling's just gotten stronger." She wove her fingers up into my hair, which was almost back to its original length. "I wasn't kidding when I said you were stuck with me."

"Lucky me," I reached up to kiss her.

"Lucky me," she whispered, kissing me back.

I kissed her for a long time, both hard and soft, and then sat back down on the bench, pulling her onto my lap. We watched the water together without talking for at least thirty minutes before we saw the boat return on the horizon.

"Are they coming back already?"

"Maybe Carlisle just wants to be closer to shore in case the winds pick up too much."

"If it's worth anything, I think he really does love you. They all do."

Not having seen my family for so long, I'd been a little surprised at their warm welcome. Esme had actually cried. "Yeah, I guess so." I gave her a squeeze. "They love you, too, that's for sure." It was true. Esme's instant acceptance I had already expected, and Alice and Rose took to Bella like a long-lost sister. Carlisle was the one who surprised me the most, however. When he learned that Bella'd recently lost both her parents, he spent the next few days doting on her to an extent that would have made me jealous at one time, so much did it remind me of my childhood. Now, though, all I felt was benevolence to anyone who was kind to Bella. Carlisle liked her, and that made me like him. A lot.

"Oh, no," Bella sighed. "I just thought of something."

"What's that?" The boat was getting close enough that we could make out everyone's faces.

"Alice is going to want a big wedding. She'll want to design my dress."

"And that's bad?"

"Not the dress part, but the wedding." She looked up me sadly. "I don't have anyone to invite. I'd rather just have a civil ceremony back in Chicago."

Bella'd moved into my apartment and gotten a job as a barista downtown. She didn't earn a lot of money, but enough to pay half the rent and a little left over for other expenses. She insisted on paying her share of everything, and assured me that once her mother's estate was settled, she was going to pay me back every penny I'd spent on her down in Mexico and Phoenix. I hadn't argued, but only because that was a negotiation that could wait.

"It's your wedding, Bella, not Alice's. You can do it any way you want."

"It's your wedding, too. Do you care?"

"A civil ceremony is fine with me. In fact, I know a judge who freelances on drums. I could ask him to do it."

"Perfect," she settled back against my chest. "What about a honeymoon?"

"What about one?"

"If you're going to defer to me on the wedding, I'll let you plan the honeymoon. Assuming you want another one, that is."

"Actually, I was thinking about going back to Mexico, back to your favorite ocean," I smiled into her hair.

"Really?" She sat up, her face hopeful. "Is it safe for us to go back there?"

"I don't see why not, if we stick to the touristy areas. Blend in, like we did before."

"Can we visit Harold? I'd love to thank him in person."

Harold had come through big time and found a way to transfer Bella's scholarship to the University of Illinois, where she was starting vet school in the fall.

"I'd love to give him back his car."

"And get your bike?"

"Yep."

"I'd love that, too,"

Her smile, what it did to me. Knowing that I'd get to look at it every day for the rest of my life almost brought tears to my eyes, and I pulled her even closer. The life I'd made for myself before meeting Bella now seemed hollow and empty. What I'd assumed was peacefulness was nothing more than solitude, a loneliness I'd imposed on myself because I didn't think I deserved more. Giving Bella my love was one thing, but accepting hers - that opened a part of me I hadn't known existed, a part that cherished every minute together, but that also thought more about the future.

I'd been giving thought to finishing my degree, not because Bella liked to tease me about being a drop-out, but because I wanted to be able to provide for her. The lyrics I'd made up a few minutes ago were the truth. I wanted to give her everything she'd ever want, down to house with the big bathtub and the white picket fence.

Without even realizing it, I'd slipped my hand from her hip to her stomach.

"Whoa. Slow down, there, tiger. I have to get through vet school first."

"What?" I'd been drawing lazy circles under her jacket.

She gave me a knowing smile and put her hand over mine. "I suppose you've got names picked out already, too?"

I smiled and shook my head. It would never cease to amaze me how she could read my mind. "I'll let you decide."

**A/N: Short, but sweet. Maybe too sweet; turns out Edward the hit-man is just a big ol' sap.**

**Thanks again to my wonderful betas Snarkymuch, VixenLittleStella and Simaril, and thanks to all who read and reviewed!**

**One last thing - this story is also up at The Writer's Coffee Shop, and because of the recent purge going on here, I'll probably be moving my other story, A Slow Boil, there as well (just in case).**

**I know I sound like a broken record, but thanks again!**

**- kts**


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